U.S. Military Intervention in Nigeria: A Road To Nowhere. By Capt. Bishop C. Johnson, U.S. Army (Rtd)

"The idea that limited U.S. airstrikes—whether through MQ-9 Reapers, MQ-1 Predators, or precision-guided missiles—can dismantle Boko Haram or ISWAP is a strategic illusion. Targeting a few compounds, convoys, or hideouts might create temporary “shock and awe,” but such symbolic attacks would hardly make a dent in the entrenched insurgency that has evolved over two decades. These groups have long decentralized their operations, embedding themselves in local communities and exploiting porous borders and regional instability to sustain their campaigns of terror."

In the wake of recent reports that the United States military, acting on President Donald Trump’s directive, is drawing up plans for possible intervention in Nigeria to “protect Christians” from Islamist militants, a deeper strategic analysis reveals that such a move would be fraught with immense risks, operational limitations, and almost certain failure if not approached with full cooperation from the Nigerian government.

While the intentions behind the directive may appear noble on the surface, the reality on the ground in Nigeria is far more complex than any simplistic narrative of Christian persecution. Nigeria’s violent crises—spanning Boko Haram and Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP) insurgencies in the Northeast, banditry and kidnapping in the Northwest, and Fulani herders’ attacks on farmers in the Middle Belt—are deeply intertwined with economic deprivation, corruption, land-use conflicts, ethnic rivalries, and weak governance structures. These are problems that cannot be bombed out of existence by American drones or fighter jets.

The idea that limited U.S. airstrikes—whether through MQ-9 Reapers, MQ-1 Predators, or precision-guided missiles—can dismantle Boko Haram or ISWAP is a strategic illusion. Targeting a few compounds, convoys, or hideouts might create temporary “shock and awe,” but such symbolic attacks would hardly make a dent in the entrenched insurgency that has evolved over two decades. These groups have long decentralized their operations, embedding themselves in local communities and exploiting porous borders and regional instability to sustain their campaigns of terror.

Furthermore, the Fulani herders’ violence in the Middle Belt and the criminality of armed bandit groups in the Northwest are not driven by ideology alone but by fierce competition over land, water, and mineral resources, as well as the proliferation of arms across the Sahel. These are socioeconomic and governance issues that military power alone cannot solve. Indeed, even a full-scale U.S. ground campaign—akin to those waged in Iraq and Afghanistan—would struggle to address these dynamics, and the costs would far outweigh the benefits.

Without genuine partnership with the Nigerian government, the United States military faces an impossible mission. Nigeria’s internal security challenges are rooted in governance failures, weak institutions, corruption, and inadequate border control. Any external intervention that sidesteps Nigerian government cooperation or seeks to unilaterally impose solutions risks alienating both the government and the population, while fueling nationalist resentment and further destabilization.

For a U.S. role in Nigeria to be meaningful, it must focus on cooperation, not confrontation. That cooperation should include:

Funding and logistical support to help the Nigerian military modernize its capabilities.

Intelligence sharing to enable precise targeting of insurgent networks and supply chains.

Joint training programs to build local capacity for counterinsurgency, counterterrorism, and civil-military operations.

Border security and management initiatives to curb the influx of foreign fighters, arms, and illegal miners from neighboring countries.

Absent these forms of cooperation, U.S. strikes will only amount to symbolic gestures—loud but ineffective, like pounding a pillow.

Moreover, the geopolitical and domestic implications for the United States are enormous. Nigeria is Africa’s most populous country and its largest economy, with deep ethnic and religious complexities that outsiders rarely comprehend. Any U.S. military intervention, even under the guise of humanitarian protection, would risk being perceived as neocolonial aggression and could ignite regional backlash across West Africa.

Domestically, the American public has little appetite for another foreign war—least of all in a place as intricate and volatile as Nigeria. President Trump’s own MAGA base, which twice rallied behind him on the promise of ending America’s “endless wars,” would be hard-pressed to support a new conflict in Africa. Nor would Congress, particularly the Congressional Black Caucus, back a Trump-driven military operation on African soil. The political, moral, and fiscal costs would be catastrophic.

Even from a purely strategic standpoint, U.S. Africa Command (AFRICOM) faces severe logistical challenges. The closure of American drone bases in Niger, now reportedly occupied by Russian forces, means that the U.S. would have to operate from distant outposts in Europe or Djibouti—limiting operational reach and sustainability. Establishing new launch points in West Africa would require delicate negotiations with regional governments, potentially breaching Nigeria’s sovereignty and upsetting regional stability.

Furthermore, the suggestion of deploying U.S. naval assets, such as an aircraft carrier strike group, off the coast of Nigeria is equally unrealistic. At present, most American carriers are either deployed in the Pacific and the Middle East—regions of higher strategic priority—or undergoing maintenance cycles in U.S. naval shipyards. Redirecting such assets to the Gulf of Guinea would require a major shift in global force posture and risk undermining deterrence in more critical theaters such as the South China Sea or the Persian Gulf. Beyond the operational impracticalities, the financial burden of sustaining a carrier strike group—complete with escorts, logistics vessels, and air wings—runs into hundreds of millions of dollars per month. For a mission of limited strategic value and uncertain outcome, that cost would be politically indefensible. Even if such deployment were possible, its utility against dispersed insurgent and bandit networks operating deep in Nigeria’s interior would be minimal at best. Aircraft carriers are instruments of high-intensity warfare, not counterinsurgency stabilization in rugged, landlocked terrains.

Ultimately, the lesson from two decades of global counterinsurgency is clear: you cannot bomb your way to peace. Insurgencies and violent extremism are sustained by poverty, political exclusion, corruption, and local grievances. Without addressing these root causes through diplomacy, development, and governance reform, any military action—whether American or Nigerian—will only recycle the cycle of violence.

If the United States is truly committed to helping Nigeria overcome its decades-long security crisis, it must adopt a strategy rooted in partnership, not paternalism; intelligence, not impulse; and development, not destruction. Anything less would be a tragic repetition of history—a road to nowhere.

Capt. Bishop C. Johnson (U.S. Army, Retired) is a National Defense and Military Strategist, and security analyst specializing in West African security, counterterrorism, and strategic cooperation.