By Hassan Husaini, mni
President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s directive to constitute an eleven-member committee to draft a National Threat Assessment and a five-year Strategic Defence Operations Plan has generated significant interest among security analysts and political observers While superficially a welcome move toward strategic coherence, a critical examination of the committee’s composition, the timing of the announcement, and the broader political context reveals a far more complex and consequential manoeuvre that raises profound questions about civilian control, military professionalism, and the political management of insecurity ahead of the 2027 elections.
The most glaring anomaly in the President’s directive is the appointment of the Special Adviser on Homeland Security, Major General Adeyinka A Famadewa (rtd), to coordinate the committee and provide secretariat support. The committee includes the National Security Adviser, Mallam Nuhu Ribadu; the Minister of Defence, Lt.General Christopher Musa (rtd); the Minister of State for Defence, Alhaji Bello Muhammad Matawalle; the Chief of Defence Staff, Lt. General Olufemi Oluyede; the Chief of Army Staff, Lieutenant General Waidi Shaibu; the Chief of Air Staff, Air Marshal Sunday Kelvin Aneke; and the Chief of Naval Staff, Admiral Idi Abbas. The Directors-General of the Department of State Services, Tosin Ajayi, and the National Intelligence Agency, Ambassador Muhammed Muhammed, complete the membership.
It must be placed on record that Major General Famadewa brings a demonstrable record of competence to this assignment, with a pedigree that includes significant experience in counterinsurgency operations and strategic planning His professional credentials are not in question. However, professional competence alone does not justify placing a relatively junior officer, by tenure and institutional hierarchy, in a coordinating role over the National Security Adviser and the entire service chief establishment, many of whom were his superiors. The issue is not one of personal capacity but of structural propriety. Major General Famadewa served as Principal General Staff Officer to the National Security Adviser between 2015 and 2021, a position where he operated under the very office he is now being asked to supervise. This is not a promotion; it is a calculated rebuke that suggests a vote of no confidence in the existing coordination mechanisms. The National Security Adviser is statutorily the principal coordinator of national security. By appointing another Adviser to coordinate the committee, the President has effectively designated NSA and the entire security apparatus as principals to be assessed, not coordinators of the process.
This dynamic is reminiscent of the United States’ experience prior to the 1986 Goldwater-Nichols Act, where the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff lacked real authority and the service chiefs exercised undue influence over operations, leading to a fragmented and ineffective command structure The Act fundamentally restructured the military chain of command, stripping the service chiefs of operational authority and empowering the combatant commanders. The Nigerian directive, by contrast, does not clarify the command relationship between the Homeland Security Adviser and the NSA; it merely superimposes an additional layer of coordination on an already contested terrain, likely exacerbating the very fragmentation it purports to solve. This is not a structural reform; it is a personalized intervention that risks deepening the politicization of command, where promotions and appointments are shaped by political expediency rather than merit and operational effectiveness.
The directive itself reveals an uncomfortable truth that the administration has been reluctant to acknowledge publicly President Tinubu noted that “operational requirements were currently often considered individually, without sufficient reference to an agreed national threat assessment or unified medium-term plan, making coordination more difficult and limiting the efficient deployment of resources.”
This is a public admission of a systemic breakdown in the nation’s security architecture The committee, therefore, serves as a reason for the failure of existing structures. By publicly constituting this committee, the President is creating a historical record that he is actively fixing a broken system. This is a classic political move to deflect criticism and buy time, a dynamic observed in comparable contexts worldwide. In Israel, successive governments failed to formulate an approved National Security doctrine for twenty-five years, contributing to military unpreparedness. Similarly, India operates without a formalised national security vision, leaving the armed forces responsible for the entire national security process in a bottom-up approach that undermines strategic coherence.
Nigeria’s current security predicament is the product of decades of reactive, fragmented defence policy driven more by domestic politics than strategic necessity Successive governments invested heavily in army bases and high-profile hardware but neglected the development of a domestic defence industry or an integrated military planning system. Most damaging was the absence of a unified military doctrine, which left the armed forces ill-prepared for the asymmetric threats of terrorism, insurgency, banditry and guerrilla warfare that now overwhelm them. A recent analysis by a retired senior military officer exposes the institutional weaknesses that continue to undermine Nigeria’s counterinsurgency efforts. The problem is not enemy strength but internal stagnation, weak strategy, outdated doctrine, inadequate mobility, limited night-fighting capability, and poor surveillance. The deeper issue is structural. Nigeria’s army is much smaller than official figures imply, with many formations chronically understaffed, poorly equipped, and not at full readiness. Without rested troops for rotation or holding operations, momentum collapses and insurgents regroup. It is a cycle of tactical activity that never matures into strategy.
Furthermore, the directive ties the strategic plan to a “corresponding multi-year defence expenditure and procurement plan” This is a clear signal that the President intends to scrutinise defence spending, which has seen massive increases despite underwhelming results. The committee is being used to legitimise future cuts or reallocations by blaming past inefficiencies, a tactic that mirrors the UK’s Strategic Defence Review 2025, which sought to overhaul defence procurement. However, the UK review was the product of a long-standing institutional framework, whereas the Nigerian directive appears to be a top-down intervention designed to bypass institutional resistance.
The timing of this directive is deeply political With the 2027 elections looming, the administration is signalling a reset on security, a key issue that will dominate the campaign discourse. The directive also serves to expose the service chiefs and intelligence directors. By placing them in a position where they must defend their past performance and justify future budgets, the President is creating a performance review mechanism. If the findings are unfavourable, the President will have the political excuse to replace them without appearing to make a purely political move. This is a high-stakes gambit to control the security narrative ahead of the elections, but it is fraught with risk. Politicizing the review process could further erode military professionalism and institutional trust.
The decision to announce the formation of the committee publicly, rather than conducting the assessment quietly, is itself instructive It suggests the primary audience is domestic political stakeholders rather than security experts. Perhaps the most significant omission is any explicit reference to investigating the massive defence spending that has not yielded results. The Senate has repeatedly rejected motions to audit military expenditure. The President’s directive does not mention an audit, but by linking the strategic plan to a multi-year expenditure plan, he is opening the door to scrutiny. This is a delicate political balancing act. The President should not be seen to be publicly accusing his own service chiefs of mismanagement of resources. However, by tasking this committee to produce a plan that will serve as the basis for future procurement, he is effectively saying that the past has been inadequate and that the future must be different.
Ultimately, the President’s directive is not merely a strategic planning exercise; it is a political intervention which is made to look as a bureaucratic one It is a response to a crisis of confidence in the leadership of the Armed Forces and intelligence agencies. The committee serves to force a strategic reset that puts the military and intelligence leadership on notice while providing political reasons for the administration. The question now is whether the committee can produce a report that is both technically sound and politically acceptable. The 90-day timeline is ambitious, and the composition of the committee suggests that it may struggle to achieve consensus. The success of this initiative will depend on the willingness of the President to confront the underlying structural and political obstacles to effective security governance in Nigeria. The pattern of elite bargains and patronage that has shaped Nigeria’s security institutions for decades will not be broken by a single committee report. The deeper challenge remains the transformation of a system in which authority is negotiated rather than legally prescribed, and where the boundaries of civilian control and military effectiveness are shaped by informal arrangements rather than formal doctrine. Nigeria’s security crisis demands more than tactical adjustments or bureaucratic reshuffles; it requires a fundamental rethinking of the relationship between the political class, the military, and the citizenry.