Connect with us

Anthony Obi Ogbo

Watson’s assault case might unravel a test of courtroom litigation competence

Published

5 years ago

on

After a dramatic mayoral election meltdown, Attorney Tony Buzbee  faces another challenge ―this time in a district court

Rusty Hardin, an attorney, is not well-known to me, as my usual interest is in politicians and leaders or perhaps, politics and leadership. However, I do recall a few of his litigation endeavors. For instance, when the former Houston Oilers quarterback, Warren Moon, was acquitted by a Fort Bend County jury of choking and beating his wife. And in 2004, when an NBA Hall of Famer, Calvin Murphy, got off scot-free from charges that he sexually abused five of his ten daughters. Also in 2008, when the wife of the televangelist, Joel Osteen, walked away from a case involving a flight attendant who accused her of assault. As well as in 2012, when former MLB pitching legend, Roger Clemens, faced federal charges of lying to Congress and obstructing justice. Hardin represented Clemens in the Washington D.C. trial where a jury acquitted him of all charges after eight weeks of testimony.

In December 2019, the Houston-based millionaire, Tony Buzbee, was humiliated at the polls, losing his bid to unseat Houston Mayor, Sylvester Turner. He played down his loss, arrogantly defying a customary concession stating, “We didn’t really lose, we just ran out of time.” Today, attorney Buzbee is facing another challenge; a courtroom battle over a high-profile case that he initiated. The problem might not be the case but rather the counsel on the other side, Rusty Hardin.

There were reports over a number of lawsuits filed against Houston Texans quarterback Deshaun Watson, accusing him of sexual or civil assault. The accusation started a media blitz. Tony Buzbee who turned out to be the attorney for the plaintiffs, shuttled between social media and local news outlets to amplify the allegations made by his clients. He packaged his information and released it at intervals to generate suspense—the type that would get the accused’s attention and lure him to the negotiation table.

Tony Buzbee who turned out to be the attorney for the plaintiffs, shuttled between social media and local news outlets to amplify the allegations made by his clients.

As of April 9, a total of 22 civil lawsuits have been filed against Watson and recorded on the Harris County District Clerk’s website accusing him of a range of actions during massage appointments over the past year; from refusing to cover his genitals to forced oral sex. But Watson blatantly denied the allegations in the lawsuits, which did not name any of the women.

Matters rather got interesting after attorney Hardin finally filed an answer on April 19, to the 22 lawsuits filed against Deshaun Watson. Hardin accused all the women suing Watson of lying. “Today we answered the lawsuits filed against our client Deshaun Watson. Therefore, the answer to the question of whether we are saying that all 22 plaintiffs are lying about the allegations of sexual misconduct by Mr. Watson is a resounding yes.”

In the weeks after this allegation, it appeared that Buzbee spent more time on internet newsfeeds than with his clients. Outrageous headlines related to these incidents dominated the news in different composition formats.

Around March 23, Tony Buzbee announced his proposed lawsuits on Instagram, bragging on social media that more sexual assault allegations would follow. Within a week or so, 16 women had already made similar allegations of misconduct in 16 separate lawsuits. At some point, the number of accusers rose to 22.

Buzbee’s media campaign paid off as Watson dominated the local news, more so than COVID-19, generating interest, negative attention, and anxiety, especially among sports fans.

Buzzbee, familiar with a clique of Houston’s local media, built his case around social media, exclusively branding each lawsuit and accusation, aiming to promote a showdown. He organized a press conference on April 6, when one of the 22 women accusing Watson publicly narrated her allegations of sexual assault. But Hardin hit back, revealing that her lawyer had asked for a $100,000 settlement before filing the lawsuit.

Those familiar with Hardin’s litigation pattern would attest to his investigative prowess; the ability to gather every available piece of information to substitute a volatile mixture of myth and innuendo with undiluted facts.

Watson did what most celebrities in his predicament would do; he maintained his composure and opted for a good lawyer who knew the difference between social media conviction and the courtroom litigation route. Attorney Hardin’s first task was to investigate the case. Those familiar with Hardin’s litigation pattern would attest to his investigative prowess; the ability to gather every available piece of information to substitute a volatile mixture of myth and innuendo with undiluted facts.

Interestingly, Buzbee had at the time paraded a bevy of nameless accusers, citing the need to shield their identity as victims. Hardin quickly accused Buzbee of using anonymous allegations to destroy Mr. Watson. He claimed in a statement, that he tried to get Buzbee to identify his clients, but he was asked to file a motion. Hardin did that and obtained a judgment. In two separate hearings on April 9, state court judges agreed with Watson’s legal team, which argued that Watson could not defend himself if his accusers, who all filed their civil lawsuits under the name Jane Doe, were allowed to remain anonymous.

Earlier this month, Watson’s accusers amended their petitions to disclose their names. A new lawsuit was added at the Harris County District Clerk’s office by a freelance makeup artist who detailed two separate incidents that occurred during massage sessions in September and November, when Watson allegedly assaulted and harassed her “by exposing himself, touching her with his penis and groping her”.

Hardin’s response to the individual petition signals what might be the beginning of an imminent contentious courtroom duel. Buzbee appears battle-ready. The former Recon Marine Officer began his legal career as an attorney at Susman Godfrey LLP in Houston, and in 2000, he founded Buzbee Law Firm. He spends more time promoting himself than his practice, and it has paid off. For instance, the New York Times Magazine described him as “One of the most successful trial lawyers in the country.” The New York Times Magazine based their endorsement for Buzbee in his role in the litigation against BP, following the Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill in the Gulf of Mexico.

Hardin remains a household name in the legal community. He is not new to the Harris County Court districts, joining the Houston legal confraternity in 1975 as an assistant district attorney and starting his practice after 15 years. Hardin is familiar with the streets, the intersections, and even the traffic lights within Houston’s downtown, the abode of the civil courthouses. He could close his eyes and identify the courtrooms, seating arrangement, and possibly, the presiding judges.

The jury process could equally leave a shocking outcome because there is no specified way to gauge how the panel will likely view any case.

All indications show that the major focus, in this case, may shift from the allegations to a clash between two legal luminaries. It might boil down to Buzbee’s media crusade versus Hardin’s dogged courtroom litigation aptitude. Buzbee, it appears, invests most of his time promoting his clients’ allegations to draw a favorable public opinion.

However, the unpredictability of court litigation might equally unload surprises. It is a complicated process where the standards of right and wrong are stifled by what one can prove. The jury process could equally leave a shocking outcome because there is no specified way to gauge how the panel will likely view any case. Hardin is already requesting a jury trial.

♦ Professor Anthony Obi Ogbo, PhD, is on the Editorial Board of the West African Pilot News

Texas Guardian News
Latest posts by Texas Guardian News (see all)
Related Topics:
Continue Reading
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Anthony Obi Ogbo

From Threats to Partnership: How Diplomacy Repositioned Nigeria in Washington

Published

3 weeks ago

on

January 13, 2026

By

“Nigeria reframed terrorism, corrected Washington’s lens, and secured cooperation —a  pure anatomy of diplomatic turnaround“ —Anthony Obi Ogbo

Nigeria’s recent engagement of a United States–based lobbying firm under a reported $9 million contract was widely scrutinized, predictably misunderstood by some, and quietly effective. The objective was clear: to shape Washington’s understanding of Nigeria’s complex security challenges—particularly violence affecting Christian communities—within an accurate geopolitical, intelligence, and regional framework. Such engagements are not unusual. In fact, they are a routine and essential feature of modern international diplomacy, allowing governments to clarify policy positions, counter distorted narratives, and ensure that domestic security crises are not flattened into simplistic talking points for foreign consumption.

In an era where global perception can influence aid, sanctions, military cooperation, and diplomatic goodwill, strategic communication has become inseparable from national security. Nigeria’s decision to professionally engage Washington signaled an understanding that security today is fought not only on the battlefield but also in briefing rooms, policy memos, and diplomatic corridors.

Evidence suggests that this recalibration has begun to yield results. Just days ago, former U.S. President Donald Trump publicly acknowledged—belatedly—that Muslims are equally among the primary victims of ISIS terrorism. It was a striking rhetorical shift for a political figure who had long leaned on broad, inflammatory framing that blurred the distinction between extremist violence and religious identity. That admission did not emerge in a vacuum. It followed sustained pressure from global security analysts, regional experts, and Muslim leaders who have repeatedly challenged the false narrative that terrorism is rooted in faith rather than criminal ideology, geopolitical instability, and organized violence.

More importantly, the acknowledgment coincided with tangible policy movement. Trump-aligned U.S. security networks have quietly expanded counterterrorism cooperation with Nigeria under President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s administration. This development underscores a pragmatic recognition that effective counterterrorism is not achieved through threats, isolation, or performative rhetoric, but through partnership, intelligence sharing, and regional capacity building.

This week, the United States delivered fresh military supplies to Nigeria to support ongoing security operations. The delivery followed recent U.S. air strikes against Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP) targets, carried out at Nigeria’s formal request. While air strikes often attract public attention, the more consequential story lies beneath the surface: a shift toward coordinated intelligence operations, logistical support, and sustained military collaboration. This is not symbolic diplomacy. It is functional, operational alignment.

Contrast this moment with an earlier chapter in Nigeria–U.S. relations. During the Jonathan administration, Nigeria experienced significant difficulties in its diplomatic engagement with Washington. Rather than relying on seasoned foreign policy professionals, security strategists, and international communications experts, the government leaned heavily on local intermediaries and political loyalists to interpret and convey Nigeria’s position abroad. The result was a weakened diplomatic posture, fragmented messaging, and persistent misinterpretation of Nigeria’s internal security realities. Critical issues—ranging from Boko Haram’s evolution to regional insurgency dynamics—were often viewed through incomplete or distorted lenses.

That experience offered a lasting lesson: goodwill alone does not translate into influence. In global politics, perception must be managed as deliberately as policy. Strategic silence, amateur diplomacy, or reactive communication leaves a vacuum—one that is quickly filled by external narratives, advocacy groups, or political opportunists with their own agendas.

What has changed now is not merely tone, but method. Nigeria’s current approach reflects an understanding that diplomacy is not capitulation, and lobbying is not a sign of weakness. It is leverage. It is preparation. It is the disciplined articulation of national interest in a language that global power centers understand. By engaging professionally, Nigeria reframed its security narrative—not as a sectarian failure, but as a shared counterterrorism challenge that requires international coordination.

Even Donald Trump’s posture illustrates this transformation. A leader who once relied on threats, ultimatums, and rhetorical spectacle has now, through institutional channels, become part of a support framework working with regional actors to strengthen security and civilian protection. The shift is not ideological; it is a strategic move. And it reflects the enduring truth that diplomacy often succeeds where bluster fails.

In international politics, power is not only measured by firepower or economic weight, but by the ability to persuade, align, and sustain cooperation. Nigeria’s recent experience is a reminder that nations are not judged solely by their crises, but by how effectively they explain, manage, and confront them on the global stage. Diplomacy, when practiced with clarity and professionalism, does not dilute sovereignty—it reinforces it.

♦ Publisher of the Guardian News, Professor Anthony Obi Ogbo, Ph.D., is on the Editorial Board of the West African Pilot News. He is the author of the Influence of Leadership (2015)  and the Maxims of Political Leadership (2019). Contact: anthony@guardiannews.us

Texas Guardian News
Latest posts by Texas Guardian News (see all)
Continue Reading

Anthony Obi Ogbo

When Air Power Becomes a Christmas Performance: The Illusion of Success in Trump’s Nigerian Strike

Published

1 month ago

on

December 28, 2025

By

“Bombs alone do not defeat ideology. Precision without intelligence is noise.“ —Anthony Obi Ogbo

When President Trump announced his authorized United States air strike against ISIL (ISIS) fighters in northwest Nigeria on Christmas Day, there was an immediate burst of celebration on Nigerian social media. For a country exhausted by years of kidnappings, massacres, and territorial insecurity, the announcement sounded like long-awaited international support. Memes circulated, praise poured in, and some Nigerians hailed Trump as a decisive global sheriff finally willing to act where others hesitated.

But after the initial euphoria settled, a sobering assessment emerged: the strike appeared less like a strategic military intervention and more like a made-for-television spectacle designed to burnish Trump’s international strongman image.

This was not the first time the United States has launched air strikes in Africa or the Sahel under the banner of counterterrorism. From Libya to Somalia, from Syria to Yemen, U.S. “precision strikes” have often been announced with confidence and celebrated with press briefings—only for the targeted groups to regroup, mutate, and, in some cases, expand their reach. In Nigeria itself, years of foreign-backed security assistance have failed to decisively neutralize Boko Haram or its ISIS-affiliated offshoots. Instead, violence has fragmented, spread, and grown more complex.

No verifiable evidence has been produced to confirm high-value ISIS targets were eliminated

The Nigerian strike followed a familiar pattern. U.S. officials framed it as a blow against ISIS-West Africa Province (ISWAP), a group aligned with the global ISIS network. Trump’s language suggested a decisive intervention—an act of muscular diplomacy signaling that America still projects power where it chooses. Yet no verifiable evidence has been produced to confirm high-value ISIS targets were eliminated, leadership structures dismantled, or operational capacity degraded.

What followed was a digital smokescreen. Social media accounts, many anonymous and unverified, began circulating gruesome images of dead bodies and destroyed villages—photos long associated with banditry in Nigeria’s northwest. These images were quickly repurposed to “prove” the success of Trump’s strike. However, this is where the narrative falls apart under scrutiny.

Trump’s mission, as publicly stated, was to target ISIS. Not bandits. Not kidnappers. Not rural criminal gangs. ISIS is a transnational terrorist organization with ideological, financial, and operational links across continents. Bandits, by contrast, are primarily armed criminal groups—motivated by ransom, cattle theft, and territorial control, not global jihad. Conflating the two may be politically convenient, but it is analytically dishonest.

Killing or displacing bandits does not equate to dismantling ISIS. In fact, indiscriminate or poorly targeted air strikes often worsen the situation, pushing criminal groups to radicalize, splinter, or align with extremist factions for protection and legitimacy. This pattern has been observed repeatedly in conflict zones where military force substitutes for intelligence-driven strategy.

A truly successful counterterrorism raid is not measured by dramatic announcements or viral images. It is measured by clear, verifiable outcomes, including the confirmed elimination of high-ranking commanders, disruption of recruitment and financing networks, seizure of weapons caches, and—most importantly—sustained reductions in civilian attacks. None of these benchmarks has been credibly demonstrated in the aftermath of Trump’s Nigerian air strike.

Instead, Nigeria wakes up to the same grim reality: villages remain vulnerable, highways unsafe, and communities terrorized. The strike did not change the security equation. It did not empower Nigerian forces. It did not restore civilian confidence. And it certainly did not neutralize ISIS as a strategic threat.

This air strike offered Nigerians symbolism, not security.

In that sense, the air strike was not merely ineffective—it was a failure dressed in the language of strength, executed for optics, and amplified for political gain. It offered Nigerians symbolism, not security.

If the goal is truly to eliminate ISIS and its affiliates in West Africa, the path is neither theatrical nor unilateral. It requires robust intelligence sharing, sustained training, and real-time coordination with Nigerian and regional forces. It demands targeted arms assistance, logistical support, and investments in surveillance capabilities that allow local militaries to act decisively and lawfully. Above all, it requires a long-term commitment to strengthening state capacity—not fleeting air shows announced from afar.

Bombs alone do not defeat ideology. Precision without intelligence is noise. And celebration without results is self-deception. Trump’s Nigerian air strike may have produced headlines, but history will remember it for what it was: a failed mission masquerading as success.

♦ Publisher of the Guardian News, Professor Anthony Obi Ogbo, Ph.D., is on the Editorial Board of the West African Pilot News. He is the author of the Influence of Leadership (2015)  and the Maxims of Political Leadership (2019). Contact: anthony@guardiannews.us

Texas Guardian News
Latest posts by Texas Guardian News (see all)
Continue Reading

Anthony Obi Ogbo

Trump’s Nigeria Strike: Bombs, Boasts, and the Illusion of Victory

Published

1 month ago

on

December 26, 2025

By

“With Obama, Al-Qaeda was not eliminated by noise; it was suffocated by intelligence.“ —Anthony Obi Ogbo

It has now been confirmed that the United States acted in collaboration with Nigeria in the recent strike on Islamic State elements in northwest Nigeria. That cooperation deserves recognition. Intelligence-sharing between Washington and Abuja is necessary, overdue, and welcome. Terrorism is transnational; defeating it requires allies, not isolation.

But let us be clear: bombs alone do not defeat terror. And Donald Trump’s strike—trumpeted loudly on social media before facts, casualties, or strategy were disclosed—was less a turning point than a performance.

Trump’s announcement was a classic spectacle: “powerful,” “deadly,” “perfect strikes.” No numbers. No clarity. No accountability. Just noise. It was the same choreography America has deployed in Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, Libya, Yemen, and Somalia—places where U.S. airpower landed hard, headlines screamed victory, and instability deepened afterward. Violence escalated. Militancy adapted. Civilians paid the price.

History is unkind to airstrikes sold as solutions.

Nigeria knows this better than anyone. Long before Trump’s tweet, the Nigerian military had already conducted multiple operations in the same terror corridor. At least five major strikes and offensives stand out:

  • First, Operation Hadarin Daji, launched to dismantle bandit and terror camps across Zamfara, Katsina, and Sokoto, involving sustained air and ground assaults.
  • Second, Operation Tsaftan Daji, which targeted terrorist hideouts in the Kamuku and Sububu forests—precisely the terrain now in the headlines.
  • Third, repeated Nigerian Air Force precision strikes in the Zurmi–Shinkafi axis, neutralizing commanders and destroying logistics hubs.
  • Fourth, joint operations with Nigerien forces, disrupting cross-border supply routes used by ISIS-linked groups.
  • Fifth, recent coordinated offensives involving intelligence-led raids, special forces insertions, and follow-up ground clearing in the northwest.

These were not symbolic gestures. They were Nigerian-led, Nigerian-funded, Nigerian-executed. And yet, there were no fireworks on social media. No flag-waving hysteria. No intoxicated praise of Nigerian commanders as saviors of civilization.

Why? Because there is a dangerous segment of Nigerians who suffer from what can only be called the American Wonder mentality—a colonial hangover that applauds anything louder simply because it comes from Washington. The same Nigerians who ignore their own soldiers dying in silence suddenly abandon Christmas meals to celebrate Trump’s tweets, typing incoherent praise, mangling grammar, and mistaking spectacle for substance.

It is embarrassing. And it is intellectually lazy.

Terrorism is not defeated by volume or virality. It is defeated by intelligence—quiet, patient, unglamorous work. The United States knows this. Barack Obama understood it. Al-Qaeda was not dismantled through social media theatrics or chest-thumping declarations. It was weakened through intelligence fusion, financial disruption, targeted operations, local partnerships, and relentless pressure on leadership networks—mostly without fanfare.

Obama did not tweet. He acted. So what actually works against groups like ISIS in Nigeria?

First, intelligence supremacy. Human intelligence from local communities, defectors, and infiltrators matters more than bombs. Terror groups survive on secrecy. Break that, and they collapse.

Second, financial and logistical strangulation. Terrorists run on money, fuel, arms, and food. Cut access to smuggling routes, illicit mining, ransom flows, and cross-border trade, and their operational capacity withers.

Third, community stabilization and governance. Terrorism thrives where the state is absent. Roads, schools, policing, and justice systems matter. People who trust the state do not shelter terrorists.

Fourth, regional coordination, not episodic strikes. Nigeria, Niger, Chad, and Burkina Faso must sustain joint pressure, not reactive operations driven by headlines.

Airstrikes can support these strategies—but only as tools, never as substitutes.

Trump’s strike may have killed militants. It may have disrupted camps. That is commendable. But it is not a solution. It is a moment. And moments, without strategy, fade.

If Nigerians truly want terror defeated, they should stop worshiping foreign loudness and start demanding disciplined intelligence, consistent policy, and respect for the men and women already fighting on the ground.

Real victories are quiet. Real security is built, not tweeted.

♦ Publisher of the Guardian News, Professor Anthony Obi Ogbo, Ph.D., is on the Editorial Board of the West African Pilot News. He is the author of the Influence of Leadership (2015)  and the Maxims of Political Leadership (2019). Contact: anthony@guardiannews.us

Texas Guardian News
Latest posts by Texas Guardian News (see all)
Continue Reading

Trending