By Moshood Oshunfurewa

The office of the Attorney General of the Federation (AGF) occupies one of the most consequential positions in Nigeria’s constitutional democracy. As the Chief Law Officer of the Federation, the AGF is not merely a political appointee; he is the custodian of legality, the interpreter of state power, and, ideally, the guardian of justice for all, government and governed alike. But recent developments compel a difficult but necessary question: is the AGF truly serving the Federation, or increasingly aligned with the interests of the President?

To answer this, one must begin with the constitutional architecture. The AGF, by virtue of Section 150 of the 1999 Constitution, is both the Minister of Justice and a member of the Federal Executive Council. This dual role, legal adviser to government and political actor within it, has long created an inherent tension. On one hand, the AGF must defend government policies and decisions; on the other, he must ensure that such policies conform to the rule of law, even when politically inconvenient.

In theory, this balance is achievable. In practice, however, it has often tilted in favour of executive loyalty.

Nigeria today faces a paradox. At a time when public trust in institutions is fragile, the judiciary remains widely regarded as the last hope of the common man. Historically, even during military regimes, the judiciary retained a measure of respect, not necessarily because it was free from pressure, but because of moments of “uncommon courage” demonstrated by judges who upheld justice against the odds. That moral capital, however, depends heavily on the conduct of key legal actors, chief among them the AGF.

Recent events provide a fertile ground for reflection.

The prosecution of former AGF Abubakar Malami by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission on allegations of money laundering raises critical institutional questions. If a former Chief Law Officer can be subjected to such grave accusations, it suggests either that the system is capable of self-correction or that accountability is selectively applied. The more troubling issue, however, is not merely prosecution after office, but whether institutional safeguards during tenure were sufficient to prevent alleged abuses in the first place.

Accountability after the fact, while necessary, is no substitute for integrity in office.

Equally instructive is the recent legal action initiated by the current AGF, Lateef Fagbemi, seeking the deregistration of several political parties, including the African Democratic Congress and others. The justification, grounded in constitutional compliance, appears legally arguable. Political parties that fail to meet statutory requirements should not remain on the electoral register indefinitely.

But, the timing and context of such actions inevitably invite scrutiny. In a politically charged environment, the exercise of legal powers, however lawful, must also pass the test of impartiality. The AGF’s authority to initiate proceedings is vast, but its legitimacy depends on public perception that such powers are not deployed selectively or strategically to shape the political landscape. In the era where calculation is aimed to ensure opposition parties have no place in the ballot.

Law, in this sense, is not only about correctness but about credibility.

Another development that sharpens this debate is the striking out of treason and terrorism charges against protesters involved in the #EndBadGovernance demonstrations. The decision of Justice Emeka Nwite to discharge and acquit individuals such as Comrade Adaramoye Michael Lenin and others can be interpreted on two levels. On the surface, it reaffirms the judiciary’s independence and its constitutional role as a check on executive authority. At a deeper level, however, it reflects the subtle but powerful influence of public scrutiny in democratic systems.

In moments of heightened civic awareness and sustained public pressure, institutions, particularly the courts, are often nudged back toward their foundational obligations. It is within this context that the outcome of the case may be understood as part of a broader corrective dynamic. Without such scrutiny, there is a legitimate concern that prosecutorial momentum, sustained under the authority of the AGF, might have followed a different trajectory, one more closely aligned with prevailing executive preferences under Bola Ahmed Tinubu.

Thus, the ruling stands not only as a legal determination but also as a demonstration of how civic vigilance can intersect with judicial responsibility to prevent potential overreach. It reinforces a recurring pattern in Nigeria’s legal landscape: the courts often serve as a corrective mechanism when the application of state power risks straying beyond constitutional boundaries.

This raises a subtle but important concern. When cases initiated or sustained under the authority of the AGF repeatedly collapse in court, it invites questions about prosecutorial discretion. Is the power to institute or continue proceedings being exercised with sufficient objectivity? Or is it, at times, influenced by political considerations?

These are not accusations; they are questions that any serious democracy must be willing to confront.

The structural problem does not lie only in the fusion of roles, but the system configuration. As Minister of Justice, the AGF is expected to advance the policy agenda of the administration. As Attorney General, he is expected to act independently in the interest of justice. When both roles reside in one individual, conflicts, real or perceived, are inevitable.

This is why calls for reform have gained traction over the years. Prominent legal voices, including Femi Falana, have consistently argued for the separation of the office of the AGF from that of the Minister of Justice. Such a reform would not be unprecedented; in several jurisdictions, the chief legal adviser operates with a degree of independence from political office holders.

Separation alone, however, is not a panacea. The process of appointing the AGF must also be reimagined. If the occupant of the office owes his position solely to presidential discretion, the expectation of independence becomes aspirational rather than practical. A more transparent, merit-based, and possibly multi-institutional appointment process could enhance both the reality and perception of neutrality.

At its centre, the issue is not about individuals but about institutions. Nigeria has had Attorneys General of varying dispositions, some assertive, others compliant. But a system that relies on personal virtue rather than structural safeguards is inherently fragile.

The AGF must not be a sycophant of the President, but neither should he be an adversary. His duty is to the Constitution. This distinction is crucial. Loyalty to the President is political; loyalty to the Constitution is legal and moral. When the two align, governance is smooth. When they diverge, the AGF must have the courage, and the institutional backing, to choose the latter.

There is also a broader democratic implication. The legitimacy of the state depends not only on elections but on the fairness of the legal system. When citizens perceive that the law is applied unevenly, harshly against some, leniently towards others, confidence erodes. And when confidence erodes, stability becomes precarious.

Nigeria’s legal framework is robust on paper. What remains is the consistent, impartial, and transparent application of that framework. The AGF sits at the heart of this process.

So, is the Attorney General of Nigeria for the Federation or for the President?

The constitutional answer is clear: for the Federation. The practical answer, however, remains contested.

Bridging this gap requires more than rhetoric. It demands institutional reform, professional integrity, and a collective insistence, by the judiciary, the bar, civil society, and citizens, that the rule of law must prevail over political expediency.

Until then, the question will persist, not as a mere academic inquiry, but as a reflection of Nigeria’s ongoing struggle to align power with principle.

Source: Vanguard News