Earlier this week, Parliament passed the Commercial Use of Marine Areas (CUMA) Bill 2025 with 27 votes in favour, seven abstentions, and 21 members not voting. The Government hailed it as a landmark reform—an “important step towards strengthening the governance, protection and sustainable utilisation of our marine resources” that would “revert proprietary ownership of marine areas used for commercial purposes to customary owners.”
Yet beneath the rhetoric of empowerment lies a profound deception: the CUMA Bill does not restore what was promised, does not honour what was taken, and does not satisfy the aspirations of the iTaukei as articulated by the Bose Levu Vakaturaga.
This is not a correction of historical wrongs but a continuation of them—a legislative sleight of hand that replaces the 2010 Surfing Decree with a more palatable name while preserving its core injustices.
A Century of Broken Promises
The iTaukei claim to qoliqoli ownership is not a novel demand but the fulfillment of a promise made over 140 years ago. In 1881, at Nailaga, Ba, Governor Sir William Des Vœux conveyed Queen Victoria’s wishes to the Bose Levu Vakaturaga:
“It is Her Majesty’s desire that neither you nor your people should be deprived of any rights in those reefs which you have enjoyed under your own laws and customs… measures will be taken for securing to each Mataqali the reefs which properly belong to it, exactly in the same way as the rest of their land will be secured to them.”
This was the Crown’s solemn commitment: qoliqoli would receive the same legal protection as native land. Yet while native land was secured through colonial land laws, the equivalent protection for qoliqoli was never implemented—blocked by white settler opposition and commercial interests.
This injustice has been documented repeatedly. The 1975 Qoriniasi Bale Cabinet Sub-Committee recommended transferring full proprietary ownership to customary holders. The 2006 Qoliqoli Bill proposed to “henceforth and without further assurance vest the proprietary ownership of all qoliqoli areas to traditional and customary qoliqoli holders.” Dr Tupeni Baba concluded that restoring legal recognition of qoliqoli ownership would correct this historical wrong. The BLV, in its submission to the Constitution Review Commission; anchored its position on the 1881 Royal Dispatch, affirming that “qoliqoli ownership must be recognized in the same way as customary ownership, owners own their land.”
Each generation has identified the problem. Each generation has proposed the same solution. And each generation has seen that solution denied.
Ownership vs. Benefit-Sharing
The distinction between the 2006 Qoliqoli Bill and the 2026 CUMA Bill could not be starker.
2006 QOLIQOLI BILL — “e tukuna o cei nai TAUKEI NI se TAUKENA na WAITUI-YALAVA NI QOLI.” (Who owns the ocean?)
2026 CUMA BILL — “e tukuna o cei me VAKAYAGATAKA na Waitui/Yalava ni Qoli.” (Who benefits from the ocean?)
The 2006 Bill proposed the transfer of proprietary rights of qoliqoli areas—beach, lagoon and reef—from the State to the qoliqoli owners. It was a rights-first model: ownership, proprietary control, exclusive decision-making powers.
The CUMA Bill, by contrast, is a benefit-sharing model: regulation, sustainability, commercial-use management, revenue sharing. Ownership remains with the State. The iTaukei do not receive proprietary rights; they receive the right to apply for ownership of limited areas used for commercial tourism, subject to a formal, multi-institutional administrative process. Fishing activities are excluded entirely. As Deputy Prime Minister Viliame Gavoka himself acknowledged: “This is a process, not an automatic transfer. There is no automatic vesting.”
This is not ownership. This is conditional access dressed in the language of empowerment.
A Clear Mandate Rejected
The BLV’s submission to the CRC was unequivocal:
· Return of proprietary ownership of all qoliqoli areas to customary holders
· Constitutional recognition of customary laws, practices, and governance structures
· Stronger protections for iTaukei proprietary rights, including veto power over development projects
The BLV stressed that qoliqoli is “not simply an economic resource but an extension of the Vanua, closely tied to identity, culture and stewardship.” Development and investment could proceed, but “only when customary ownership remains at the centre of decision-making.”
Yet the CUMA Bill does none of this. It does not immediately vest proprietary ownership. It does not remove the Surfing Decree’s injustice. It does not fulfill historical promises. It does not honour the iTaukei mandate.
The Illusion of Compensation
The Government’s defense is that the CUMA Bill provides compensation and benefit-sharing. But compensation for use is not the same as recognition of ownership. As the Fiji Commerce and Employers Federation noted, the Bill’s compensation framework raises fundamental questions: How is “fair and equitable” compensation defined? How are existing arrangements recognised?
Critically, the CUMA Bill offers the right to apply for ownership of “commercial used marine areas”—estimated at less than 10% of all qoliqoli areas. The remainder stays with the State. This is not restoration; this is tokenism. As one Facebook commentator observed: “The minimal benefit CUMA gives is the right to apply to own ‘commercial used marine areas’ which is less than 10% of all qoliqoli areas. This right would disappear if proprietary ownership is transferred to qoliqoli owners, something that CUMA and the Coalition Government do not allow iTaukei.”
The Government’s approach, as articulated by Gavoka, reveals a fundamental disjoint: “CUMA Bill will address… a legal structure to ensure the iqoliqoli owners are compensated for the commercial use of their marine areas by tourism operators.” He does not deny that CUMA fails to immediately vest ownership of all qoliqoli. He simply reframes the question from ownership to compensation.
The Continuity of Injustice
The CUMA Bill does not repeal the 2010 Surfing Decree; it replaces it while preserving its core provisions:
· Continuing the moratorium against iTaukei dealing with surfing areas
· Withholding proprietary ownership, reserving it to the State
· Denying customary holders the full rights promised in 1881
As one critic observed: “CUMA simply continues the injustice of the Surfing Decree by continuing the moratorium and continuing the denial of proprietary ownership of Qoliqoli areas to customary Qoliqoli holders.”
The only real solution, as articulated by the BLV and echoed by commentators, is clear:
“Return proprietary ownership. Keep regulatory authority. Build a joint‑vesting commercial model. Anything less is just another version of the Surfing Decree — with a nicer name.”
A Betrayal of Trust
The iTaukei majority that voted for the Coalition Government did so with a mandate: repeal the 2010 Surfing Decree, restore qoliqoli ownership, and honour the 1881 promise. Instead, the Government has delivered CUMA—a Bill that perpetuates the same injustice with a more sophisticated name.
The BLV’s disappointment is not merely procedural; it is existential. Qoliqoli is not a commodity to be leased or a resource to be shared. It is the Vanua itself—identity, culture, stewardship, and inheritance. To deny full proprietary ownership is to deny the iTaukei their place in their own land and waters.
The CUMA Bill is a deception: it offers a token where justice demands full restoration. It offers process where history demands finality. The question is not whether the CUMA Bill is an improvement on the Surfing Decree. The question is whether Fiji will finally honour the promise made in 1881—or continue, for another generation, to deny the Chiefs and the iTaukei, what is rightfully theirs.
Pasifika Talanoa by a traveled ITaukei Fijian 