The central thesis of Levitsky and Ziblatt’s work is that modern democracies seldom die by the bullet of a military coup. Instead, they are slowly suffocated from within by the very leaders citizens elect. “Democracies may die at the hands not of generals but of elected leaders. Presidents or prime ministers who subvert the very process that brought them to power,” they wrote. More ominously, they noted that this erosion happens “slowly, in barely visible steps.”
For those observing Nigeria’s political landscape in 2026, those “barely visible steps” are now glaringly apparent. From the halls of the National Assembly to the streets of Port Harcourt, the warning signs that the authors identified, the erosion of democratic norms, the politicization of institutions, and the suffocation of the opposition have become the defining features of the nation’s political discourse.
Levitsky and Ziblatt argue that for a democracy to survive, it requires not just strong laws but also “soft guardrails,” mutual toleration between rivals, and institutional forbearance. In Nigeria, these guardrails appear to have collapsed.
Analysts point to the growing trend where political rivals are treated not as opponents but as existential enemies. During a Democracy Day address earlier this year, a state governor noted he had been re-reading How Democracies Die and was struck by the book’s warning about “the gradual erosion of norms, the abandonment of fair play, and deepening polarisation.” He lamented that Nigeria’s political space has become so toxic that the idea of a loyal opposition is fast vanishing.
A core theme of the book is how elected autocrats weaponize state institutions to punish dissent and shield themselves from accountability. In Nigeria today, concerns are rife that institutions meant to be neutral the police, the judiciary, and the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) are increasingly viewed as partisan tools.
The sealing of opposition party headquarters by security agencies and the selective enforcement of laws have led many to echo the book’s fears. As one political analysis piece put it, “When ruling parties rely on state mechanisms, particularly security agencies, to neutralize opposition, democracy becomes procedural rather than substantive.” The judiciary, long seen as the last hope of the common man, has not escaped scrutiny, with critics alleging a “for sale” culture that undermines public trust in the rule of law.
Executive Overreach: The Rivers State Precedent
If there is one event that has crystallized the book’s thesis for the Nigerian public, it is the declaration of a state of emergency in Rivers State in March 2025. The decision, which led to the suspension of the state’s governor and his deputy, was framed by the federal government as a necessity to quell political instability. However, for many constitutional lawyers and political observers, it represented a dangerous leap toward executive absolutism.
The suspension of a democratically elected official by the president is a classic example of what Levitsky and Ziblatt describe as “executive aggrandizement,” the slow dismantling of checks and balances. Critics argue that by subverting the constitutional process in Rivers State, the administration sent a chilling signal that the tenure of elected officials is subject to the whims of the center, a move that directly threatens the federal structure upon which Nigeria’s democracy is built.
The book warns that democracies die when the ruling party uses its power to silence the opposition. This sentiment resonates deeply with Nigeria’s main opposition figures. Following the recent crackdown on opposition activities, including the sealing of the Labour Party’s national headquarters, a senior opposition leader issued a dramatic “cry for help” to the international community.
Arguing that internal mechanisms for justice had collapsed, the opposition leader accused the government of engaging in a form of “Political Genocide,” characterized by the “systematic destruction of democratic life through the coordinated actions of state institutions.” This echoes the book’s assertion that the most dangerous threats come not from violent insurrection, but from the slow, bureaucratic strangulation of political alternatives.
So, how prophetic is How Democracies Die regarding Nigeria? Local academics have weighed in with a grim verdict. In a recent journal article titled “Levitsky on how Democracies Die: Is Nigeria’s Democracy Dead?” the author concluded that while Nigeria’s democracy is “not dead,” it is “critically weakened” and effectively “on life support.”
The consensus among Nigerian commentators is that the nation is currently navigating a perilous phase. The “slow, barely visible steps” that Levitsky and Ziblatt warned about are no longer invisible. They are visible in the muzzling of the press, the partisan use of the police, and the normalization of exceptionalism in governance.
As Nigeria continues to grapple with these challenges, the message of How Democracies Die serves as both a diagnosis and a warning. The book suggests that the return to authoritarianism is rarely met with mass resistance because it happens incrementally. For the Nigerian voter, the question is whether the slow erosion of democracy can be reversed before the “soft guardrails” disappear entirely, leaving a democracy in name only.
Toro writes from New GRA Bauchi
