A few thoughts on “repentant” Boko Haram members
An exodus from Boko Haram is once again in the news. Journalists with sources inside the Nigerian Army reported last weekend that over 600 “repentant Boko Haram - ISWAP members” have recently surrendered, while more than 220 associates, mostly women and children, have turned themselves into the Borno State Government. Similar reports are coming out of Cameroon, where officials say there have been hundreds of defections from the terrorist group since May, when their repulsive leader, Abubakar Shekau, was humiliatingly murdered by ISWAP. Given the sources from both Nigeria and Cameroon, some of whom I have worked with, I believe there is some grain of truth in these reports.
Different reasons are already being mooted for this round of mass departures. Some say the defectors are being forced out by hunger, that after Shekau’s death, ISWAP took over most of his territory and stopped his fighters from predatory attacks, making it impossible for them to survive. Another theory, which I find more plausible, is that most of the defectors are civilians living in the area hitherto controlled by Shekau. With intra-factional warfare continuing between ISWAP and the Bakura faction, who reportedly succeeded Shekau, these civilians feel imperilled and are running to safety.
State forces, on their part, want to claim the credit – probably rightly, at least in part. Their line is that the defections are a product of military and intelligence efforts, which have created an atmosphere of fear and hunger in Boko Haram’s self-styled caliphate. It is probably a combination of all this that is driving this development, but whatever it may be, it is a good thing that the terrorists’ ranks are being depleted. Most of the surrendered may well be ordinary civilians living under Boko Haram, but even that is a plus. At least, their withdrawal will demoralise Boko Haram and the defectors’ children would not be raised under a brutal group, which will make it highly likely that they would grow up as merciless murderers.
But the defections raise fundamental issues that government and their partners as well as communities must deal with. Firstly, the authorities’ tagging of the defectors as “repentant” members is erroneous and can be counterproductive. If words have any meaning at all, “repentant” suggests that the persons in question have renounced their violent beliefs, while regretting their past actions and showing remorse. This clearly contradicts the narrative above that they quit because of military and intelligence pressures. If the recent returnees were flushed out of the bush by these reasons or because of a civil war in Boko Haram, it is a contradiction in terms to call them “repentant”.
The fact of the matter is that they may have merely disengaged for practical reasons, but still subscribe to the terrorists’ views. This also suggests that, far from regretting their past actions, they would do it again given the opportunity.
Thus, if the authorities have decided to receive these people and give them another chance, it is crucial to properly demobilise, rehabilitate and reintegrate them. This requires working with experts to get them to shed their violent views – or at least to address their behaviour, treat their mental health and drug addiction issues and provide economic empowerment. This may well be the plan for the men that were received by the army, but there is a tendency that the women and children may
However, rehabilitation and reintegration can’t work until and unless communities are brought along. The ultimate aim of the deradicalisation programmes across the Lake Chad region is to reintegrate former fighters into their communities. But a major lacuna is that the same communities are almost completely blindsided in this regard. This is particularly a problem with Nigeria’s deradicalisation programme, Operation Safe Corridor, which I was the first researcher to access and study. Even the most informed or influential community members do not know the risk profile of those enrolled in the programme, why they were ‘forgiven’ and what course they are going through. Because they are left in the dark, people have huge misgivings about the programme. That is why the overwhelming majority of the people of north-eastern Nigeria are hostile to this programme. Most communities and their representatives have publicly vowed to never allow their former killers back into their midst.
That was the case three years ago when I wrote my first paper on the Operation Safe Corridor and it remains the case today. Despite the authorities’ claim that they are making changes to bring communities along with the process, the reality is much different. A couple of months ago, I facilitated a workshop that was attended by religious and traditional leaders as well as journalists based and working in some of the most affected Borno communities. Towards the end of my virtual presentation, I initiated a conversation intended to gauge their views on this issue. All of them, without exception, were clear that they are opposed the idea of deradicalisation and that they would actively reject any former fighter brought back. In fact, some contributors went to the extent of threatening to take the law into their hands if their killers were returned to them without being brought to justice.
The Secretary to the Borno Emirate Council was the only participant that was ever invited to Operation Safe Corridor. Even he felt that the visit was too short and that their major questions and concerns were left unanswered or addressed. More stunning was the lamentation of the participants that that event, which was organised by a Nigerian charity, Dar Al-Andalus, was the first peacebuilding event they had ever been invited to. If the District Head of Chibok and imams and pastors from Gubio, Dikwa and similar places have never been involved in rehabilitation and reintegration or other peacebuilding efforts, then who have governmental and nongovernmental organisations been engaging at the grassroots?
There are several additional important issues that I wanted to raise, but space won’t let us get into them, so we may have to carry them forward to subsequent opportunities. But the bottom lines today are that these returnees or others are not “repentant” by the mere fact of quitting and thus need proper demobilisation and rehabilitation before reintegration; and that for any rehabilitation and reintegration effort to be successful, the communities, who are bearing the brunt of violent offenders and who are expected to receive former fighters back, must be at the center from the very beginning. Treating communities as an afterthought or a marginal note is simply unwise and unworkable.