It is Tuesday October 28, 2014. The National Assembly (NASS) has just resumed for the week. Events are picking up and expectations are high in both chambers of the legislature: the Senate and the House of Representatives.
Dozens of senators are already seated. Others are hurrying in to take their seats in the hallowed chamber, also known as the Red chamber; a reference to the colour of the cozy seats reserved for 109 senators.
Guarding lawmakers, visitors
In the massive lobby of the NASS, lobbyists, journalists, political jobbers, and by-standers move about freely, exchanging greetings and trading banters.
Suddenly, there is a muffled activity at the entrance to the Senate as doorkeepers and chamber attendants take positions on both sides. They are all dressed in official ceremonial attire usually worn to welcome dignitaries to the chamber.
Such dignitaries include the president of the Senate and his deputy, political nominees appearing for confirmation, ministers, security chiefs, and diplomats.
To the non-initiate, the suppressed movement and positioning at the entrance means little or nothing. It could even go unnoticed.
But to the accredited photographers and television cameramen covering the Senate, the shuffling of feet and taking of positions by the doorkeepers and chamber attendants signal the arrival of the principal officers for the day’s sitting.
Then comes a yell; not quite far away: “Mr. Pr-e-si-de-n-t!” The voice sounds in part like that of a prolific parade commander but with the unmistakable succulence of someone close to affluence.
From feudal Europe to modern democracy, that voice has never ceased to command attention. In addition to being both a warning and an announcement; it is also a battle cry.
While it announces the presence of the president of the Senate in the lobby, it also warns everyone not to cross the path of the officials in motion. The organised rhythmical cry equally means that legislative business is about to begin.
That parade-tested voice belongs to the sergeant-at-arms, the only man entrusted with the responsibility of marching the president of the Senate into the chamber. He controls movement and ensures the safety of the Senate president during the short walk to the chamber.
Authority of the mace
That voice carries authority and history. It is recognised from generation to generation. Of course, the powers of the sergeant-at-arms lie not in his voice or his attire but in the piece of furniture placed on his should: the mace.
Moving in a slow guided pace, the sergeant-at-arms, howling at intervals, brings all motions and activities in the lobby to a standstill. Rapt attention takes over. His trained eyes scan the surroundings to ensure obedience to the sacred command as he leads the Senate president and other principal officers into the chamber.
All the senators, on hearing the bawling of the sergeant-at-arm, rise in silence to receive the Senate president. At the front of the elevated platform where the presiding officer sits, the sergeant-at-arms stands at attention while the Senate president says the opening prayer.
Just before the Senate president takes his seat, the mace is gently placed on the pedestal in front of his seat. Until the mace is placed there, the Senate president is not supposed to sit. Protocol demands he displays such deference to the mace; his symbol of authority.
The mace is the insignia of office of the Senate president. It is to him what the nuclear code box is to the president of the United States. During deliberations, the mace rests on a pedestal in front of the Senate president. By the rules of the Senate, nobody is allowed to go near it. It is watched over by the sergeant-at-arms.
Majestic in design and sacred in authority, the mace is the exclusive right of the sergeant-at-arms. When the Senate dissolves into Committee of the Whole, the sergeant-at-arms places the mace on a lower pedestal.
When crisis breaks out in the chamber, either when members become unruly or rises against the presiding officer, it is the duty of the sergeant-at-arms to ensure the safety of the mace. The moment the mace is out of the chamber, any sitting, deliberation or decision taken is a nullity.
The Senate in session is only recognised when the mace is present. And the bearer of the mace is answerable primarily to the presiding officer.
For instance, when the late Senate President, Chuba Okadigbo, faced impeachment attempt, he was still able to retain his seat when, even at alleged gun-point at midnight, the sergeant-at-arms refused to surrender the mace. No one seems to know where the sergeant-at-arms keeps the mace at the close of session.
When armed policemen stormed his Apo official residence, demanding that the mace be released to them, Okadigbo humoured them with a story of how the mace was being guided by dreaded, sacred pythons at Ogbunike cave, in his home town of Ogbunike in Anambra State.
The policemen left, and Okadigbo retained his seat; briefly. If the mace had been captured, those who sought to impeach him would have convened an extraordinary session of the Senate and have him sacked.
History of the sergeant-at-arms
The sergeant-at-arms has a history and have functions. He is an officer of the legislative body who preserves order and executes commands.
According to Encyclopedia Britannica, in feudal England, a sergeant-at-arms was an armed officer of the lord and was often one of the special requirements to be in immediate attendance on the king’s person; to arrest traitors and other offenders.
The American Senate created the office of the sergeant-at-arms on April 7, 1789. It was then called the doorkeeper. The creation became necessary because for a full month from commencement of sitting, the Senate could not form a quorum.
His function was to compel senators who reported for work to stay in the chamber to form a quorum and allow formal sitting. Sometimes, he was required to compel sitting by fetching a senator from home.
The office of the sergeant-at-arms is vested with such authority that someone has dared to assume that “on the orders of the Senate, the sergeant-at-arms can even arrest the president of the United States.”
Even in modern democracy, the functions of the sergeant-at-arms are not different from what they were hundreds of years ago. His duties cover protection, threat assessment, investigation and arrest, admission to the chamber, and enforcement of gallery rules, among others.
The sergeant-at-arms is responsible for overall security in the Senate and House of Representatives. He must ensure the safety of the members of the legislature. That is the reason it has become traditional that every sergeant-at-arms must be a retired officer of the armed forces.
For instance, the last sergeant-at-arms in the Senate, Emeka Okere, who died in an accident, was a retired colonel. He is succeeded in acting capacity by Ibrahim Ndako.
Between April 7, 1789 when the U.S. Senate appointed James Mathers as Sergeant-at-Arms and May 5, 2014 when Andrew Willison was appointed, the Senate has had 39 sergeant-at-arms.
Between May 12, 1789 when Joseph Wheaton was appointed Sergeant-at-Arms in the House of Representatives (though with the title of Doorkeeper) and January 17, 2012 when Paul Irving was appointed, the U.S. House of Representatives has had 37 sergeant-at-arms.
When the Senate is in session, the sergeant-at-arms must maintain order and decorum in the chamber and the surrounding areas. Beyond that, it is also his duty to ensure safety and security of the staff of the NASS and visitors.
As a member of the NASS security team he is empowered to arrest and detain any person seen to have violated the Senate Standing Rules.
Other duties
His duties expand during ceremonies. He leads the procession of the Senate president or the speaker of the House of Representatives during formal entry into the chamber and is in charge of processions when events hold at the NASS.
For instance, when the Nigerian president or any visiting president or other dignitaries from any part of the world visits to address a joint session of the NASS, the sergeant-at-arms serves as the director of protocol and chief security officer. He establishes the order of event.
In congressional joint sessions in the U.S., the sergeant-at-arms is famous for announcing the arrival and grand entry of the president of the U.S. into the House of Representatives.
While the Senate is in session, the sergeant-at-arms supervises the galleries and ensures orderliness. He is at liberty to walk out, arrest or detain and even caused to be prosecuted, anyone who constitutes a nuisance.
He is empowered to carry out such other functions that would ensure “the business of the Senate proceeds undisturbed.”
As the parliamentary doorkeeper, the sergeant-at-arms ensures that only people with approved privileges are allowed into the chamber. Anyone not covered by his permission is treated as an intruder.
During the inauguration of the Senate in 2007, a candidate from Akwa Ibom State who claimed to have won election to the Senate but without a letter from the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) to confirm his status, was walked out by the sergeant-at-arms.
Any resistance to the exercise of the authority of the sergeant-at-arms can result in arrest and prosecution. No visitor of any kind or employee of the NASS is expected to enter the chamber without the consent of the sergeant-at-arms.
When a government appointee appears before the Senate for confirmation hearing, it is the sergeant-at-arms, on the orders of the presiding officer, who ushers him/her into the chamber.
When relatives and friends of a late senator or House member attend a farewell session in honour of the deceased, the sergeant-at-arms decides who among them enter the chamber.
Not even former lawmakers are allowed into the chamber without the permission of the sergeant-at-arms; on the instruction of the Senate president.
The sergeant-at-arms must have a mental idea of where each lawmaker sits in the chamber. He is fully involved in the assignment of seats.
When Adolphus Wabara resigned as Senate President in 2005, as he walked away from the exalted seat for his deputy to take over, the sergeant-at-arms quickly moved to the podium to guide Wabara to his newly assigned seat.
It took the Chief Whip, Udoma Udo Udoma, to halt the sergeant-at-arms in his tracks.
The sergeant-at-arms does not work alone. He has deputies and assistants whose functions are clearly defined. Some wear uniform and serve in the chambers as doorkeepers or chamber attendants, others dress in mufti and behave like the secret service; gathering “intelligence” for their chief.
The sergeant-at-arms operates under the instruction of the Senate president or the speaker of the House of Representatives, but he reports to the clerk of the NASS on administrative matters.
Power of the gavel
His functions, though peculiar to the environment in which he operates, are based mostly on global parliamentary precedents and norms. In addition to watching over the mace which ranks as the most important legislative item, the sergeant-at-arms also takes custody of the gavel.
Without the sound of the gavel, proceedings in the Senate chamber will not start. When a new Senate president is sworn-in, his first instrument of authority which announces his ascendancy is the gavel. He lifts and hits the gavel with a declaration: “this Senate is called to order,” which is another way of saying, “I have taken charge.”
Every morning, before the Senate president walks in, a gavel must be delivered to his table. Traditionally, anybody assigned by the sergeant-at-arms to handle the gavel must deliver two pieces. One is placed on the table for use, the other is kept as spare in case the one in use breaks.
The sergeant-at-arms is both an office and an individual in modern parliaments. As an individual, he is a man under authority: he can be hired, but when he is fired, the office remains.
