There’s a classic story from Hans Christian Andersen about an emperor who gets tricked into parading around naked, convinced he’s wearing magnificent robes. Everyone around him, from ministers to commoners, plays along because they’re too scared or too sycophantic to speak the truth. It takes a child to finally blurt out what everyone already knows: the emperor has no clothes.
Nigeria’s political scene is starting to feel a lot like that parable, with former President Goodluck Jonathan at the center of a bizarre rumor that he might run for office again in 2027. A recent court ruling cleared him legally to run, but that misses the point. Just because something is legal doesn’t mean it’s wise. The real tragedy isn’t the court’s decision. It’s watching a man who left office with surprising dignity let himself be pulled toward a mirage crafted by flatterers who care more about their own ambitions than his reputation.
These sycophants are dangerous. They don’t serve truth. They serve access. Their loyalty is transactional, their praise hollow. They convince leaders that applause equals legitimacy and wishful thinking equals strategy. But when the leader falls, the flatterers just move on to the next patron. Jonathan is now at risk of becoming that pawn.
So far, he hasn’t made a formal announcement. Reports only say some supporters and PDP members are urging him to run. A secure statesman would simply say no and move on. Instead, Jonathan keeps the door open with vague talk about “consulting widely.” That ambiguity gives the illusion merchants all the oxygen they need to keep selling the fantasy that Nigerians are desperate for his return.
But let’s be honest. Even in a perfectly fair election, Jonathan’s chances look terrible. In a race with Tinubu, Atiku, Obi, and him, there’s no clear path to victory. The numbers don’t add up. The alliances aren’t there. The momentum is missing. Where exactly would his votes come from? The North is loyal to Atiku. The South-West backs Tinubu. The South-East has shifted toward Obi. Jonathan seems suspended in midair, with no regional base, no strong movement, and no grassroots machine to support a modern campaign.
The irony stings. Jonathan couldn’t beat a vulnerable Muhammadu Buhari in 2015, even with all the advantages of incumbency. Now some think he can take on Bola Tinubu, a battle-hardened political tactician who controls the full machinery of state power. That’s not optimism. That’s delusion.
Much of the excitement around Jonathan is driven by nostalgia, not reality. He’s earned a reputation as a calm, decent statesman, mostly because he gracefully conceded defeat in 2015. That was a commendable act. But personal decency doesn’t automatically make someone a good president. Jonathan’s administration was widely seen as weak and indecisive. Boko Haram grew into a national catastrophe on his watch. Corruption flourished. Public trust eroded.
His greatest asset today isn’t power. It’s goodwill. People respect him for leaving office honorably. That image has earned him international respect and a dignified place in history. But politics is cruel to those who can’t recognize when their time has passed. If Jonathan jumps into this race, he risks destroying that hard-won goodwill. A humiliating defeat would shrink his stature, not grow it. And it would further splinter an already fractured opposition, handing President Tinubu an even easier path to victory.
Jonathan 2027 isn’t a serious political project. It’s an illusion propped up by flattery, nostalgia, and collective self-deception. A cruel joke that has gone too far.
