The drug crisis is no longer merely a law-and-order problem. It is a test of institutional integrity, national sovereignty and the survival of the social fabric that holds Fiji together.
Fiji launched its National Counter-Terrorism Strategy 2026–2030 earlier this week. It speaks of operational readiness, emergency response, critical infrastructure protection, legislation, training and inter-agency cooperation. These are necessary measures for any responsible nation.
Yet as our security planners prepare for threats from outside, a more immediate danger demands equal urgency: the growing possibility that transnational drug networks are exploiting weaknesses within our own institutions.
The distinction matters. A nation can prepare for external threats while becoming vulnerable from within. Indeed, the most dangerous adversary may not be one that storms our gates, but one that quietly purchases access to the people entrusted with guarding them.
Consider what has emerged this week. The entire 39.5 kilograms of cocaine, valued at approximately $31 million, associated with a high-profile drug case was found missing from the Suva High Court exhibit room, with flour discovered in the remaining bars. Police have confirmed the exhibits were tampered with and are investigating. Six people with access to the room have been identified as persons of interest, according to media reports. The investigation must establish who was responsible and how this happened.
Whatever the investigation ultimately reveals, the implications are profoundly disturbing. If drugs held as evidence in a court of law can disappear and be replaced with flour, what does this say about the safeguards protecting our justice system?
This is not simply a question of missing cocaine. It is a question of whether institutions entrusted with upholding the law can reliably protect the very evidence upon which justice depends.
The concern extends beyond the courts. Drug-related charges involving police officers, allegations of corruption within public institutions, attempted breaches of military armouries and reports of drug consignments arriving through international networks raise serious questions about the resilience of our security architecture. Reports of cocaine washing ashore on remote islands add another dimension to our maritime vulnerability.
Each incident requires proper investigation. None should be treated as proof of a single coordinated conspiracy. But taken together, they demand a national response that looks beyond individual arrests and seizures to the institutional weaknesses that organised criminals may exploit.
My concern is that we may be underestimating the nature of the threat.
In February 2023, Fiji authorities were already confronting transnational criminal networks linked to methamphetamine originating in Mexico. Fiji has since faced repeated major drug seizures and growing concern about the penetration of international trafficking networks into local communities.
The danger is not confined to the drugs themselves. International criminal networks bring money, intimidation, weapons, recruitment and the capacity to corrupt. They do not need to take over a country by force if they can acquire influence through bribery, fear and compromised loyalties.
A Caribbean friend who watched criminal networks undermine the security of his own islands once warned me: “Bodies will start to be found floating in the sea and, guns will follow.”
His words have stayed with me, particularly as we confront disturbing incidents involving drugs, unexplained deaths and questions about the integrity of our security institutions. Such incidents must not be casually linked without evidence. But neither should we wait for a pattern of escalating violence to become undeniable before acting.
The lesson from countries overwhelmed by organised crime is that institutional compromise can precede open violence. By the time criminal networks become powerful enough to intimidate entire communities, the damage to public trust may already be extensive.
Fiji must not assume that we are immune.
The Government’s counter-terrorism strategy recognises that transnational criminal networks can create pathways that terrorists may exploit. That connection is important. But the wider drug crisis requires sustained attention in its own right, whether or not criminal activity meets the definition of terrorism.
We therefore need to ask some difficult questions.
Have recruitment procedures and background checks for police and military personnel been strengthened to detect possible criminal infiltration? Are there effective systems for identifying unexplained wealth, conflicts of interest, suspicious financial transactions and compromised loyalties among personnel in sensitive positions? Are similar safeguards operating within the judiciary, customs, ports, airports and other public institutions?
And when warning signs emerge in villages, hospitals, churches, schools or government departments, who brings those fragments of information together before they become a national crisis?
These are not accusations against our institutions as a whole. They are legitimate questions of national security, demanding clear answers from those responsible for protecting the public.
Fiji needs an intelligence capability that connects information across institutional boundaries, identifies emerging threats and enables timely, lawful action. The Government should assess whether a Fiji Intelligence Service should be constituted, resourced and empowered to fulfill that role, including identifying links between organised crime, corruption and threats to national security.
Intelligence must not become a political instrument. Its purpose must be to protect Fiji, not protect those in power. Independent oversight, clear legal authority and accountability are essential if such a capability is to command public confidence.
We must also examine our dependence on foreign security partners. Cooperation with Australia, New Zealand and other partners can provide valuable expertise, intelligence and operational support. But partnership must strengthen our own capacity to understand and respond to threats within its borders. Sovereignty means more than flying our flag; it means possessing the institutional competence to protect our people and make informed decisions about our national security.
I am particularly concerned for us, the iTaukei.
Our young people, villages, families and customary structures are among the things most at risk when the drug trade takes root. The Vanua has sustained generations through obligations of kinship, reciprocity, collective responsibility and care for one another. Drug dependency, criminal recruitment, intimidation and corruption threaten to erode those bonds further from within.
The reported rise in HIV infections associated with injecting drug use adds a grave public-health dimension. This crisis requires prevention, treatment, rehabilitation and support for affected families alongside effective policing. Our young people must be offered a future beyond addiction, exploitation and organised crime.
This is not merely a law-and-order challenge. It is a struggle over the kind of society Fiji will become.
Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka and his Government must demonstrate that they understand the scale of the challenge. That means strengthening internal vetting, protecting whistleblowers, investigating corruption without fear or favour, securing evidence, monitoring vulnerable entry points and coordinating intelligence across agencies. It also means ensuring that communities can report concerns safely and that drug prevention and rehabilitation receive sustained attention.
The counter-terrorism strategy is welcome. But a strategy is only as effective as the institutions implementing it. Protecting electricity, water, ports, airports and telecommunications is important. Protecting the integrity of the institutions responsible for governing and safeguarding those assets is equally vital.
When cocaine disappears from a court exhibit room, the alarm should reach far beyond the courthouse. It should reverberate through every ministry, every security agency and every office entrusted with public confidence.
Fiji cannot afford complacency. Nor can we afford to confuse the announcement of a strategy with the achievement of security.
We voted for leadership that would protect our people, uphold the law and place the national interest above political convenience. That responsibility now demands more than reassuring statements and investigations after the damage is done.
The question is no longer simply whether Fiji can defend itself against threats from outside.
It is whether we have the courage, discipline and political will to confront the vulnerabilities within.
The drugs are here. The institutional warning signs are before us. The time to act is now, before the rot spreads further.
