As speculation swirls over his potential return, Goodluck Jonathan must weigh the promise of redemption against the peril of forfeiting the very legacy that defined his statesmanship.
By Chudi Okoye
He doesn’t exactly cut the profile of a practiced political pugilist. Nor does he convey the canny core, the conspicuous charisma, or the competitive crust of a comeback kid. Yet any strategist gaming out Nigeria’s 2027 presidential race would be rash to rule out Goodluck Jonathan’s chances, should he choose to re-enter the fray. If he runs, as rumors suggest, it won’t be a slam dunk, but neither would it be a disastrous clunk.
The whispers have grown louder in recent days about Jonathan’s possible run. Could the complaisant ex-president who lost re-election in 2015 be contemplating a comeback? His political rise had always seemed a touch providential. He entered politics after the sudden death of Sani Abacha in 1998 enabled Nigeria’s return to civilian rule. Joining the People’s Democratic Party (PDP), Jonathan became deputy governor of Bayelsa State in 1999, then governor in 2005 when his principal, Diepreye Alamieyeseigha, was removed on corruption charges. He was vice-president within two years, and then president when Umaru Yar’Adua died in 2010. He won a full term in 2011, despite unease in the Muslim North, which felt it was still their turn under Nigeria’s informal power-rotation pact. But his lucky streak stalled in 2015, when he was toppled by a North-Southwest electoral alliance. Jonathan conceded defeat even before all results were announced, and has largely avoided partisan politics since leaving office.
If he seeks the presidency in 2027, would fortune favor him again? His prospects are interesting, with a mix of enticing possibilities – rooted in regional arithmetic and his own legacy – and daunting challenges in the current environment.
Tailwinds for a Trailblazer
There’s an Igbo saying that “name is destiny.” In Goodluck Jonathan’s case, it seems doubly true. Luck propelled his political ascent, and his graceful concession in 2015 proved fortunate for Nigeria. That single act delivered the country’s first peaceful transfer of power between rival parties, cementing his place in the nation’s electoral history. Today, his most potent political asset lies in that legacy – a reputation as a hero of Nigerian democracy. He left office under the shadow of defeat, yet stepped into the warm glow of global praise for placing country above ambition. In the decade since, that aura has only deepened, with Jonathan emerging as a kind of statesman, monitoring foreign elections and occasionally speaking on the world stage.
Jonathan’s peaceful concession did not only burnish his global image; by averting post-election turmoil, it also bolstered his domestic standing. The goodwill generated by that gesture likely helped insulate him when his successor, Muhammadu Buhari – reviving patterns from his military past – launched an aggressive anti-corruption campaign targeting Jonathan’s administration. Several of his ministers and close allies were prosecuted amid high-profile investigations into the OPL 245 oil block deal, diversion of arms-procurement funds, and questionable withdrawals from the Excess Crude Account. Even his wife, Patience, was probed, her accounts frozen and properties impounded. Jonathan himself was never charged, and he consistently denied wrongdoing, casting the probes as political persecution. Despite serious questions about his presidency, he has retained a relatively benign personal image – an asset in a political culture where corruption is routine and Buhari himself left office with a tattered legacy. That contrast could blunt some of the incumbency advantages available to President Tinubu, who faces prodigious scandals of his own – a clouded wealth trail, frail health, and a prickly political past that remain points of persistent debate. If Jonathan runs in 2027, this offers him a wedge, if he’s willing to wield it.
Exploiting Tinubu’s weaknesses will require more than moral capital; regional dynamics could further tilt the scales in Jonathan’s favor. The South-South, which produced its only president since independence during Jonathan’s tenure, would almost certainly rally behind his comeback – delivering a crucial bloc of oil-rich states. More intriguingly, northern political calculus may offer him an unexpected advantage. The North–Southwest alliance that toppled Jonathan in 2015 seems troubled, with northern elites increasingly uneasy about entrenched Southwest dominance. While the North voted heavily against Jonathan in 2015, its leaders may recall his infrastructural investments and successful amnesty programs, while calculating that his single remaining term is preferable to Peter Obi’s potential eight-year tenure, which would delay the region’s return to power. Even Atiku’s ambitions in this cycle disrupt northern succession plans. As for the South-East, the region reliably backed the PDP in every presidential race since 1999 – except in 2023, when Obi’s Labour Party surge reshuffled loyalties. Still, Jonathan’s perceived fairness during his presidency may yield dividends, potentially splitting the South-East vote even if he cannot dominate as in previous cycles.
If stitched into a functional coalition, this regional patchwork could give Jonathan a formidable geographic base, potentially complicating Tinubu’s path to re-election.
Beyond regional arithmetic, Jonathan possesses tangible political assets that distinguish him from likely rivals. At 67, he would present a generational middle ground: younger than Tinubu and Atiku, and slightly older yet more seasoned than Obi. His executive experience spans state and federal levels: he served as deputy before becoming governor, and as vice before presidential accession. By contrast, Obi’s experience is confined to state governance; Atiku has only served nationally as vice-president; even Tinubu, despite his presidency, offers gubernatorial experience and a brief legislative role from the aborted Third Republic. More notably, Jonathan has remained with the PDP through victories, defeats, and internal upheavals, contrasted to the political peregrinations of likely rivals. His experience and constancy could resonate powerfully with voters and party faithful weary of opportunism.
Perhaps most compellingly, a Jonathan victory in 2027 would embody a poetic symmetry. The man who enabled Nigeria’s first peaceful electoral turnover could guide it through the critical “second election” test of democratic consolidation – adding to the reciprocal poetry of defeating his old nemesis, the APC. His victory would be difficult to contest by a ruling party that benefited from his gracious concession twelve years earlier. For Jonathan personally, 2027 represents his final realistic shot at redemption; by 2039, when the South’s turn theoretically returns, he would be nearly 82 and beyond serious consideration.
Headwinds and Hazards
However one frames it, Jonathan has a real shot in 2027 if he chooses to run. Yet, for all the factors in his favor, he could just as easily encounter gales that demand careful navigation. If he enters the race, the test will be whether he has the starch to press his advantages through turbulent weather.
Chief among the challenges is his fractured party. The PDP has been divided and depleted since its 2015 defeat – partly a reflection of Nigeria’s incumbent-dominant culture, but also of deep internal fault lines. Jonathan’s party loyalty is admirable, yet his post-presidential influence has waned as untamed forces have claimed control. Fissures and defections ahead of the 2023 elections cost the party a winnable race and triggered further erosion. Today, the party appears under the sway of Nyesom Wike, the former Rivers State governor who currently serves as a minister in Tinubu’s administration. Even from his federal perch, Wike exerts significant control over Rivers politics, subjecting Governor Simi Fubara to a protracted and very public struggle for autonomy. Wike’s triple allegiances – to PDP, APC, and himself – create an almost impossible conflict of interest, and his grip on key party structures means he could actively undermine Jonathan’s bid in service of his own future ambitions. He did exactly that to Atiku Abubakar in the last presidential election cycle – sabotage that eventually drove Atiku out of the party. Wike likely now has broader regional reach, bolstered by APC inroads in the South-South since the last election.
Jonathan wouldn’t have only Wike to worry about on the opposition front. There’s a flank of other figures with their own rigid demographic calculus who may resist stepping aside, thus frustrating any fusion of opposition forces. Atiku and Obi face the same brutal arithmetic about 2027: Atiku would be nearly 85 when the North’s turn returns in 2031; Obi would be 78 when opportunity reverts to the South in 2039. Both likely see 2027 as their final window and will take some persuading to bow out. Atiku has already joined the new African Democratic Congress (ADC) coalition, while Obi appears torn between that front and his Labour Party base. Aligning these formidable figures behind his candidacy would require incredible political dexterity from Jonathan – yet without major opposition consolidation, there’s scant prospect of defeating the APC.
Goodwill and good fortune have followed Goodluck Jonathan’s political career, meaning he has rarely – never really – fought partisan guerrilla warfare. It’s fair to ask whether he has the chops to tame the demons within his own party before facing the Enuma Elish monsters lurking in the wider political waters. The affable ex-president has yet to reveal the ruthlessness that Wike has displayed within the PDP – or such as he will need to confront the broader opposition and the formidable machine Tinubu has built. He has yet to display such “will to power,” as Nietzsche might say.
The APC, which defeated Jonathan under a less coldblooded leadership, would be even more determined not to lose to him under a more disciplined and cutthroat standard-bearer. The party’s machinery, resources, and institutional advantages as incumbent would be fiercely marshaled against any Jonathan restoration – Nigeria’s “second electoral turnover test” dream be damned. Unlike 2015, when some APC members may have harbored private respect for the sitting president, a 2027 contest would be viewed as an existential battle. It will require a field general to snatch victory from APC’s stranglehold. I have my doubts whether Jonathan has the mettle. But then again, God works in mysterious ways.
To Run, or Not to Run
It is unclear whether Goodluck Jonathan will risk a run in 2027, though speculation grows. If he’s pondering the prospect, it may be a liminal decision – resting partly on rational calculation, but ultimately on instinct and id.
Jonathan would be a formidable contender. He possesses unique strengths relative to likely rivals: a benign reputation and statesmanlike credibility, extensive governing experience, broad regional reach, and the historic resonance of a potential comeback. Yet structural obstacles loom: his fractured party under hostile influence, rigidities that may forestall a unified opposition, and the reality of an incumbent APC machine determined to retain power.
A key consideration is whether he can reassemble the cross-cutting coalition that carried him in 2011 but crumbled by 2015 under northern discontent and economic strain. That would require uncommon political footwork – negotiating with PDP powerbrokers harboring their own ambitions, enlisting governors who control local party machinery, and persuading rivals to step aside. It won’t be easy, but where there’s political will, there’s a way.
Much depends on how Jonathan reads the national mood, and how he assesses Tinubu’s administration. Nigerians may endure the severity of Tinubu’s neoliberal reforms as necessary sacrifice, but inequitable outcomes could drive a desire for change. If so, Jonathan may wonder whether he could be considered a credible vanguard of that change. Voter demographics may work for him in this regard, with nearly 40% of the electorate aged 34 or younger, and another 35% between 35 and 49. Given his past presidency, of course, he may be seen by some voters as part of an older order, even though he is younger than Tinubu and Atiku and roughly in the same age cohort as Obi. But he could navigate this tension if he presents himself not as a nostalgic reprise, but as a transitional figure capable of stabilizing the country while paving the way for generational change.
Yet the most compelling factor may be Jonathan’s psychological disposition. For him, historical vindication beckons – a chance perhaps to complete an interrupted legacy while cementing his role as democracy’s unlikely guardian. But failure carries steep costs. His statesmanlike image hinges on his dignified exit in 2015; a second defeat could transform the president who advanced Nigerian democracy into just another politician unable to accept political mortality. He might recall the fate of his namesake, Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe, whose stature was diminished by unsuccessful late-career bids for power in the Second Republic.
Perhaps the greatest question Jonathan must confront is what it would take to topple a tenacious slugger like Tinubu. Defeating this incumbent may demand a scorched-earth, bare-knuckled campaign that could corrode the very moral authority that has defined Jonathan’s post-presidential identity. The paradox is stark: though one of the few challengers with a real shot at victory, winning could transform Jonathan into someone fundamentally unlike the dignified statesman the nation respects. Even a triumph won through ruthless politics may feel like defeat, a sacrifice of the grace and restraint that underpin his legacy. It might be, in some ways, a Pyrrhic victory. More than fear of losing, Jonathan must wrestle with fear of the toll victory might take.
Ultimately, the man who once conceded defeat with patriotic dignity will decide if it serves the country to concede yet again, this time to the nobility of that fear.
