The resignation of British Prime Minister Keir Starmer, less than two years after leading the Labour Party to a landslide electoral victory, was dramatic, yet reflected a pattern we have become familiar with in recent British politics.
Starmer now joins a procession of fallen prime ministers stretching back to 2016 – from David Cameron to Theresa May, Boris Johnson, Liz Truss, and Rishi Sunak. None of these prime ministers was ousted through military intervention, popular insurrection, or a court order. Rather, each was ultimately brought down by the same political system that elevated them to electoral glory.
To the casual observer, the rapid turnover of British Prime Ministers in the last decade may appear chaotic, or even a symptom of political instability. Some argue that the British electorate has become ungovernable. However, beneath the apparent chaos at Westminster lies an uncomfortable truth that African democracies would do well to examine, particularly Nigerians who wonder why our democracy has delivered so little despite almost three decades of uninterrupted civilian rule. The turbulence of British politics over the last decade, presents an important lesson on democratic accountability beyond successful elections.
Once the prime minister is deemed a liability by their own political party, the mechanics of accountability are activated. The daggers are quietly drawn and the ruthless pressure to resign begins. Every poll and survey on public opinion is closely monitored, local election results are taken as a referendum on leadership. Cabinet resignations begin to gain momentum and backbenchers get restless. Once the news media smells an internal uprising, they amplify scrutiny of the prime minister, subjecting every move – speech, public appearance, political misstep etc to relentless examination. Pressure gradually mounts until the prospect of bitter internal leadership challenge becomes impossible to resist. The Prime Minister falls.
For every British Prime Minister, winning an election is merely the beginning of examination, not the end. Political survival lasts only for as long as the prime minister maintains the confidence of his party and the parliament. This is the muscle of British democratic accountability; a political culture that prioritises institutional survival over individual ambition. Starmer recognised this reality in his resignation speech:
“The question my party is asking now is whether I am best placed to lead us into the next general election. I have heard the answer of my parliamentary party to that question, and I accept that answer with good grace.”
That closing sentence alone is a masterclass in British institutional democracy. The party spoke. The leader listened. The correction comes from within.
Nigeria presents a strikingly different political logic.
Nigeria on the other hand, presents an interesting contrast with a different political logic and culture. The notion that a governing party would overtly interrogate the performance of its own leader and engineer a transition to someone better equipped to maintain public confidence, is in most cases politically unthinkable in Nigeria. Political parties in Nigeria do not coalesce around ideological principles; rather, they operate more as electoral instruments organised around powerful individuals. Internal dissent is often dealt with as betrayals rather than as part of healthy democratic engagement. Godfatherism and transactional loyalties shape political succession and leadership retention.
Once elected in Nigeria, there is an inherent assumption that a governor or president has a fixed two-term lease on power. While 10 Downing Street is preparing to welcome its seventh Prime Minister in a decade, Nigeria, in contrast, has had only two democratically elected presidents during the same period – one of whom is still serving. Social and economic conditions may deteriorate. Insecurity may worsen. Campaign promises may be ignored. Public frustrations may become unbearable. Yet, incumbent governors and presidents often remain insulated from meaningful internal scrutiny and are even routinely anointed as ‘consensus’ candidate for second terms provided loyalties to godfathers, rather than the electorates are maintained. The consequence is that loyalty, instead of performance is often rewarded at the expense of accountability.
This is not an argument for a revolving door at Aso Rock, as frequent leadership changes, by themselves, do not guarantee good governance. Rather it is a case for making accountability an integral aspect of party politics in Nigeria. Although the Nigerian presidential system provides for a fixed four-year term regardless of party confidence, political parties should however, be more than instruments for election campaigns, activated to simply retain or take over power every four years. Electoral victory, should not be the ultimate goal, but the starting point of public service where democratic legitimacy must be continuously earned.
Equally important, political parties must develop the institutional maturity to honestly evaluate their own leaders. They must prioritise public interest and institutional credibility over loyalty to ‘Godfathers’.
The ultimate lesson from Westminster’s revolving door is clear: the true strength of a democratic system, lies not in the ability to produce leaders, but the capacity to effectively replace them, when they no longer command confidence. Protecting failing leaders from accountability weakens democracy and political parties must ensure that no leader is more powerful than the institution. As political parties gear up for the 2027 general elections, the political class must decide what matters more: we can continue to reward blind loyalty and endure predictable decline, or discover the courage to demand accountability from those who seek to lead us.
*Dr Toju Ogbe is a political commentator with expertise in comparative political communication.
