The recent viral incident of a man arrested for humiliating his partner, and some poignant commentary on the social decay it represents, is not an isolated event. It is a symptom of a deeper, more profound national challenge we face: an identity crisis at the intersection of tradition, faith, modernity, and the digital age. My friend Sake Komailevuka, rightly identifies a growing arrogance, a toxic sense of entitlement, and a disconnect from the core values of respect (vakarokoroko) and knowing one’s place (vakavanua), that have long underpinned iTaukei society. This dissonance, played out on the brutal public stage of social media, forces us to ask a difficult question: what kind of society are we building?
This social fragmentation is mirrored in our political discourse. For decades, our political journey has been one of violent lurches between attempts to implant a Westminster-style democracy and reactions of authoritarianism. We have looked to London, Canberra, and Wellington for our blueprints, often with disastrous results. Despite our proximity to Australia and Aotearoa and a Western-style education system, our societal fabric—woven from the rich threads of iTaukei culture, vanua, lotu, and the contributions of other communities—is fundamentally different. The failure to acknowledge this difference, is the root of much of our instability.
Therefore, the central question for our nation is not if we should be a democracy, but what kind of democracy best serves the unique Fijian condition. The answer lies not in the West, but in a deliberate, conscious, and courageous project, of forging our own path—one that might look to the pragmatic lessons of our regional neighbours like Singapore and Malaysia, while being rooted firmly in our own realities.
The Failure of Imported Models
The Westminster model presupposes a historical evolution of institutions, a strict separation of powers, and a political culture built on loyal opposition and ideological debate. In Fiji, these concepts often clash with communal voting patterns, the paramountcy of chiefly hierarchies within the Vanua, and a political culture, where opposition is often viewed not as loyal, but as treasonous. This incompatibility has led to a cycle of elections followed by coups, where the winner takes all and the loser rejects the system entirely. This is not a sustainable model for national unity.
Furthermore, the unbridled individualism championed by Western liberalism, amplified by social media’s “FOMO” and demand for privilege, is precisely the force eroding the communal values Sake laments. A political system that promotes hyper-individualism in a society whose strength is communalism, is a recipe for the very social challenges we now face.
The Singaporean Lesson: Pragmatism Over Ideology
This is where the Singaporean model, as pioneered by Lee Kuan Yew, offers invaluable insights. It is crucial to clarify that emulating Singapore does not mean becoming Singapore. We are a different people with a different history. The lesson is in the methodology, not the specific laws.
Lee Kuan Yew’s genius was his ruthless pragmatism. He asked: what works? He rejected ideological purity—whether from the East or West—in favour of policies that delivered stability, economic growth, and social harmony. This involved a form of democracy, but one fused with a measure of what can be termed “benign authoritarianism”:
- The Primacy of the State: The state is not a neutral referee but the primary engine of national development. Its authority is paramount to ensure order and implement long-term strategy, often prioritising collective well-being over absolute individual freedoms (e.g., laws against hate speech, strict maintenance of racial harmony).
- Meritocracy and Clean Governance: A relentless, uncompromising focus on competent, technocratic leadership and a corruption-free civil service. This builds public trust and ensures the state functions effectively.
- Pragmatic, Not Absolute, Freedoms: Freedoms of speech and assembly are permitted, but not at the expense of social cohesion or national security. The Singaporean model recognises that freedom without responsibility can be destructive, a truth we are learning the hard way on social media.
For Fiji, we already have some of these pragmatic approach and it could mean a democracy that is less noisy and less focused on the theatrics of partisan politics, and more on the sober, results-oriented business of nation-building. It would require a constitution and institutions designed not to mimic a foreign ideal, but to solve Fijian problems.
Indigenising Our Framework: The Vanua and the State
However, a purely Singaporean-style state would be too sterile for Fiji. Our greatest unused resource is our cultural strength. This is where I call to look at regional nations “indigenizing their judiciary” is critical. Our democracy must make space for our customs.
The Vanua is more than a social unit; it is a governance structure with built-in mechanisms for conflict resolution, social welfare, and leadership accountability. A truly Fijian democracy would not see the Vanua as a competitor to the State, but as a partner. Imagine:
- Formalising Advisory Roles: An Upper House or Bose Levu Vakaturaga, with constitutional authority to advise Parliament on all matters pertaining to land and resources, customs and social harmony.
- Community-Based Justice: Integrating restorative justice models, inspired by the Vanua’s process of (matanigasau) reconciliation, for specific low-level civil and criminal cases. This would decongest courts and heal communities in a way Western adversarial justice often fail to do.
- Educating for Citizenship: A civics curriculum that doesn’t just teach about parliament, but also about the Bose Vanua, the values of veidokai (respect), and how modern citizenship complements traditional roles.
This is not about going backwards; it is about bringing the best of our past forward to meet the challenges of the present.
The Secular vs. The Sacred: Navigating the Dichotomy
Sake correctly identifies the conflict between Christian beliefs and secularism as a critical fault line. A Fijian model must manage this tension wisely. The state must remain secular to be fair to all citizens. However, a secular state does not have to be an anti-religious state. It can create a framework where faith communities—churches, mosques, temples—are respected partners in fostering the moral and ethical character of the nation, much like how they are involved in education and social work today. The state’s role is to ensure no single faith dominates the apparatus of the state, while encouraging all to contribute to the common good.
Conclusion: A Call for Conscious Design
The toxic behaviour on social media that Sake describes is a cry of confusion—a generation navigating a world without a coherent moral and political compass. We cannot solve this reactively with more police arrests or social media bans alone. We must solve it proactively by building a society that makes sense to its people.
We must strive for a Fijian Pragmatic Democracy:
- A Democracy because the will of the people, expressed through free and fair elections, is the only legitimate source of government.
- Pragmatic because it prioritises what works—stability, economic development, and social harmony—over rigid ideological adherence to any foreign model.
- Fijian because it is authentically ours, blending the best of democratic ideals with the wisdom of our customary governance (vakavanua) and the sober pragmatism of the Singaporean method.
This is not an easy path. It requires intellectual honesty to move beyond colonial mimicry. It requires political courage to build institutions that are uniquely ours. And it requires from all of us, as citizens, a commitment to responsible freedom—online and offline—understanding that our rights are inextricably linked to our responsibilities to our community and our nation.
The choice is ours: continue to be buffeted by the waves of imported ideas and internal discord, or finally seize the helm and navigate our own course. Let’s choose to build a democracy that doesn’t just look good on paper, but one that works for Fiji, and one that a Fijian would proudly recognise as their own.