The Sultan of Sokoto, Muhammadu Sa'ad Abubakar, has been urged by a civic group, One Nation One Law, to issue a religious fatwa condemning terrorism. The group's president, Benson Sunday, said such a declaration could help weaken the ideological foundation of insurgent groups operating in Nigeria. The call was made in a statement released on Tuesday, which argued that religious authority carries significant influence over vulnerable populations. The group believes that a fatwa from the Sultan, as the highest Islamic authority in Nigeria, could delegitimise extremist interpretations of Islam used by groups like Boko Haram. No date was given for when or if the Sultan might respond to the appeal. The Nigerian government has previously engaged traditional and religious leaders in efforts to curb violence in the North East.
The appeal to Sultan Muhammadu Sa'ad Abubakar to issue a fatwa against terrorism places religious authority at the centre of Nigeria's counter-insurgency calculus—again. It is not the first time a civic body has looked to the Sultan to wield spiritual influence against violent extremism, and that pattern speaks volumes about the gaps in state-led security efforts. When groups like One Nation One Law turn to a religious figure for what is essentially a governance failure, it reveals the extent to which state institutions have struggled to dismantle both the machinery and the ideology of insurgency.
Benson Sunday's statement underscores a long-standing reality: in many northern communities, the Sultan's word carries more weight than federal policy directives. This is not merely about faith—it reflects the erosion of public trust in military and intelligence agencies, despite years of military operations in the North East. The fact that a fatwa is seen as a strategic tool suggests that ideological legitimacy, not just firepower, is critical in this conflict. Yet relying on religious decrees also risks oversimplifying a complex crisis rooted in poverty, governance deficits, and regional inequality.
For ordinary Nigerians, especially those in Borno, Yobe, and Adamawa states, the outcome of such a religious intervention would matter less than tangible security improvements. A fatwa alone will not stop suicide bombings or restore displaced families to their homes. Farmers, traders, and students need functioning security systems, not symbolic pronouncements. If religious edicts were enough, the insurgency would have ended years ago.
This appeal fits a broader trend: the consistent outsourcing of state responsibility to traditional and religious institutions. From peace mediations to youth reintegration, Nigeria's leadership often defaults to emirs, chiefs, and clerics when formal institutions falter. That habit, repeated over decades, reveals a governance model that leans on symbolism more than structure.
