Wars carry a glib fascination – not for those left to rebuild their shattered lives and landscapes, but for those who observe from a distance, while detached from the ruins of wars. Yet, this fascination is less about the human capacity for destruction and more about the suffering wrought by power – the power to march countries to war and send soldiers marching on their stomachs, driven not just by duty but by the honours of their countries.
It is this latter reality that I found disturbingly intriguing, rather than fascinating, when I read the news of the Chief of Army Staff, General Olufemi Oluyede, announcing last Wednesday an increase in troops’ ration allowance from N1,500 to N3,000. My immediate reaction was to return to the works of scholars on war – not just to grasp the forces that drive nations into conflicts but to better understand soldiering and meagre rations.
In his seminal work, The Prince, Niccolò Machiavelli observed that a nation-state which fails to care for its soldiers is a state doomed to internal damnation. He was clear about the fact that those who bear arms and protect a nation from external aggression should be respected and given the dignity they deserve. This sound Machiavellian enunciation of the soldier’s role in the life of a nation is what casts shame and disgrace on what the General gleefully presumes as a magnanimous gesture. This pittance is an insult to those who risk their lives in defence of a country that seems determined to treat them as afterthoughts. How does anyone with a conscience contemplate N3,000 as a feeding allowance for soldiers?
These are not casual labourers at the construction sites on the sunlit heights of Kpaduma hills of Abuja. These are men and women who daily stare death in the face while shielding us from the bad ones in our midst. They are the buffers between human depravity, those that the renowned French historian, Joseph de Maistre, described as “la secte” – “those who throw dust in the eyes of the people” – and violence – yet, we allocate to them an amount barely sufficient to buy a plate of decent food from Amala Republic in Abuja or from the Gbegiri outlets in Lagos or Ibadan.
For context, a budget-conscious citizen eating at a local food shack would spend at least N1,500 on a meal, without drinks. A single day’s sustenance for a soldier, who requires not just calories but nutrition fit for extreme physical and mental exertion, is supposed to cost just N3,000? It is nothing short of the criminal to approve such a meagre sum for fighting troops. The same government that squanders billions on frivolous allowances for lawmakers, bloated presidential entourages, and unaccounted “security votes” cannot muster the political will to ensure that soldiers are adequately fed. This is not just economic injustice, it is moral depravity.
Throughout history, philosophers have debated the nature of war and the role of soldiers within the state. The Prussian General, Carl von Clausewitz, in his treatise, On War, argued that war is a continuation of politics by other means; but, he also insisted that the state has a duty to ensure its soldiers are not just pawns in the elite game but respected instruments of national cohesion and survival. The social contract, one of the most fundamental philosophical concepts of governance, demands that those who take up arms on behalf of the state should not be abandoned or treated as mere tools. If our fighting troops are forced to operate on empty stomachs, if they are malnourished while defending a nation that boasts of economic might, then we have already failed as a state.
The morale of soldiers is just as important as their weapons and strategy, Sun Tzu argued in his book, The Art of War. Hunger interrogates the combat effectiveness of fighting troops. Soldiers who fight with hunger burning in their stomachs stare defeat in the frontline. History is littered with examples of armies that collapsed not because they lacked skill or numbers, but because they lacked the will to fight for a cause that had abandoned them. We only have to look back at how hunger partly forced the Soviet troops of Gorbachev to withdraw from Afghanistan in the late 1980s. Soldiers cannot be expected to lay down their lives for a country that does not care whether he eats.
I am certain, dear reader, that you recall the harrowing Bataan Death March of 1942 – a grim episode of World War II in which exhausted and emaciated American and Filipino soldiers, having spectacularly failed to defend the Bataan Peninsula against the relentless onslaughts of the Japanese Imperial Army, were compelled to embark on a brutal forced march. These soldiers had fought not only against a formidable enemy but also against the slow, crushing grip of starvation. Their bodies, weakened by malnutrition and disease, could no longer sustain the demands of combat, and their will to resist was eroded as much by hunger as by enemy fire. Stripped of dignity, sustenance, and medical care, these surrendering troops were driven from the battlefield – not just as prisoners, but as mere obstacles to be cleared for the Japanese army’s final assault on Corregidor, the last Allied stronghold in Manila Bay. Their fate stands as a stark reminder of the peril that awaits any army forced to fight on empty stomachs, where the lack of food proves just as lethal as enemy bullets.
Was it not Napoleon Bonaparte that famously said that “an army marches on its stomach”?
If Bonaparte is right, then our troops are being forced to march on hunger.
There is a cruel paradox in the way our country treats its fighting forces. We expect them to embody courage, discipline, and resilience, yet we deny them the basic means to sustain their bodies. We demand they fight insurgents in the Northeast, suppress bandits in the Northwest, and keep peace in volatile parts of our country, yet we send them into battles malnourished and fatigued. We mourn them when they fall, drape their coffins in the national flag, and deliver solemn speeches about their heroism – but we refuse to invest in their survival. It is no wonder that morale within our fighting troops is often at an all-time low. Just a few days ago, a video of a soldier publicly calling out the commanding height of the military went viral in the social media. While the subject of his public altercation with his superiors appears to suggest that all is not well with our fighting troops, it invariably pictures a country that rewards Generals who merely sit in the cozy offices of the military high command with mind-boggling allowances.
Many countries of the world understand that a well-fed, well-compensated army is a necessity, not a luxury. The United States, for instance, provides its lowest-ranking soldiers with a Basic Allowance for Subsistence (BAS) of about $450 per month, in addition to access to nutritious meals at military bases. In contrast, N3,000 per day translates to roughly $2 – an amount that would barely cover a beverage drink elsewhere. Even within Africa, countries like South Africa and Egypt prioritise military welfare – understanding that a soldier’s strength is tied to their sustenance. Our country, with its oil wealth and vast resources, has no excuse for treating its soldiers with such disdain.
The failure to provide adequate sustenance for soldiers is not just an economic issue; it is a reflection of how our country perceives those who serve it. The paltry allowance is a declaration that soldiers are expendable, that their needs are secondary to the greed of our political elites. It is a stark reminder that despite the lofty rhetoric of patriotism, our government does not see its soldiers as people worthy of respect. If our country truly values its soldiers, it must immediately review and overhaul the Ration Cash Allowance, RCA. A daily allowance of at least N10,000 would be a modest start, considering inflation and the actual cost of nutritious meals. In addition, the military high command must ensure that food supply chains to warfare trenches and frontline troops are not just funded but closely monitored to prevent corruption and diversion of resources. There is a brighter light. It is gladdening that General Oluyede has promised to address the broader issue of military welfare, housing, and post-service benefits. A country that does not look after its soldiers in life will have no moral right to honour them.
A nation that underfeeds its soldiers should not be surprised when its army lacks morale, when desertion rates rise, or when security deteriorates. The announcement of an increase from N1,500 to N3,000 is not progress – it is an admission of decades of failure. It is an insult wrapped in the pretence of generosity. Soldiers are not beggars. They are not stray dogs to be fed scraps. If our country continues to treat its fighting troops with such contempt, it should prepare for the consequences – because the battlefield does not respect hunger, and neither will history when it judges our collective neglect. Before history condemns our collective neglect, we must act with urgency and righteousness in the present: to care for our fighting troops, ensuring they march to the frontline with well-fed stomachs, strengthened by the knowledge that their country cherishes them. A country that sends its soldiers into battles must also uphold their welfare, honor their sacrifices, and preserve its banner unstained.
This is the duty history demands – nothing more, nothing less.
