Constitutional reform is not merely about what changes, but who controls the process, whose voices are heard, and whether the people are genuinely free to decide.
In Fiji, we have learned to watch power change hands. Governments come and go. Parties rise and fall. Prime Ministers occupy office and eventually depart. The Vanua endures.
Yet whenever our supreme law is being rewritten, we confront a question more fundamental than who holds political power: Who owns the Constitution, and who has the right to determine our constitutional future?
The answer should be self-evident. The Constitution belongs to the people, not the government of the day.
But ownership means little if citizens are denied sufficient time, information and meaningful choices to exercise it. A referendum does not become democratic simply because the government puts a question to the electorate. Democracy demands more than a ballot. It requires informed consent, genuine consultation, independent scrutiny and the freedom to reject proposals without political pressure.
That is where our present constitutional reform process deserves serious examination.
The Danger of Constitutional Gatekeeping
The Constitutional Review Commission was established as an independent body. Citizens made submissions in good faith, believing their views would inform the nation’s constitutional future. Yet independence loses much of its meaning if the Government can substantially alter the Commission’s recommendations without explaining why.
Cabinet has the authority to develop legislation. But constitutional authority is not an unrestricted license to determine which aspirations survive, which safeguards disappear and which choices ultimately reach the people. If the Government has departed from the CRC’s recommendations, it owes the nation a transparent account of those departures, their justification and their consequences.
Otherwise, consultation risks becoming political theatre: citizens are invited to speak, an independent commission is appointed to listen, and the executive subsequently decides which voices matter.
This is constitutional gatekeeping. It occurs when those controlling the process also determine what information, alternatives and questions reach the final decision. Three critical points of control deserve attention: the draft, the calendar and the referendum question. Control all three, and a government can profoundly influence the outcome without necessarily interfering with a single ballot.
When Consultation Becomes a Formality
The compressed consultation period raises troubling questions. Constitutional reform is not ordinary legislation. It concerns the distribution of state power, parliamentary representation, judicial independence, electoral fairness, fundamental rights and the relationship between citizens and their institutions.
How is a vanua, a maritime island, a mataqali, a women’s organisation, a trade union or a youth group expected to examine complex constitutional provisions, consult its members and prepare an informed submission within an abbreviated timetable? Not everyone has access to constitutional lawyers. Not everyone reads legal English. Not everyone can travel to consultation sites.
A process may be technically open yet practically inaccessible. When time becomes the privilege of those with resources, consultation ceases to be genuinely inclusive. Constitutional legitimacy is not measured by the number of submissions received, but by whether citizens had a fair opportunity to understand and influence what was proposed.
The False Choice of an All-or-Nothing Referendum
Equally concerning is the possibility of bundling fundamentally different constitutional amendments into one Yes-or-No referendum. A citizen might support restoring the Senate but oppose changes to the amended Immunity Clause. Another might favour electoral reform while rejecting provisions affecting institutional independence. If proposals are bundled, both must accept provisions they oppose or reject reforms they support.
That is not a meaningful expression of constitutional preference. It is a devil’s political bargain. A referendum should illuminate the people’s will, not obscure it. Where amendments address distinct and separable questions, the Government should explain why voters cannot decide them separately.
Fiji’s History Demands Better
Our constitutional history is marked by coups, institutional disruption, contested legitimacy and the repeated subordination of constitutional principle to political power. The 2013 Constitution emerged from an authoritarian political order. Whatever its merits, its origins remain central to debates about legitimacy. But replacing or amending a constitution born of authoritarian rule does not automatically produce a democratic settlement. A flawed constitutional inheritance cannot be redeemed by another process perceived as politically controlled.
The test is not whether the present Government has better intentions than its predecessors. It is whether it establishes principles and safeguards that would remain acceptable if its political opponents held office tomorrow. That is the measure of constitutional integrity.
We should therefore ask whether the proposed amendments genuinely strengthen accountability, protect judicial and public service independence, improve representation and safeguard fundamental rights. Do they distribute power more fairly, or concentrate discretion? Do they protect dissenting citizens, or merely accommodate those currently governing? Are they designed for our next generation, or the next election? These questions transcend party loyalties.
The Vanua Must Think Beyond Governments
Those of us entrusted with responsibilities within the Vanua understand something electoral politics too often forgets: institutions must outlive the ambitions of individuals. We have witnessed traditional institutions being courted, invoked and exploited to legitimise political agendas. That experience should teach us the importance of institutional autonomy and principled distance from government.
The Vanua must never become an instrument of whichever political coalition temporarily occupies office. Our responsibility is inter-generational. We are custodians, not proprietors, of an inheritance entrusted to us by those who came before and owed to those yet unborn.
This requires patience, independence and the courage to distinguish genuine reform from political expediency. Not every announcement represents progress. Not every promise produces change. Not every invitation to participate constitutes meaningful consultation. We must learn to distinguish activity from achievement, urgency from importance, and political assurances from institutional guarantees.
The politicians have the watch. We have the time. And with that time comes an obligation to exercise the traditional wisdom, contemporary knowledge and intellectual independence necessary to recognise, what is enduring and what is merely expedient.
But this is not an argument for indigenous institutions alone. Fiji’s constitutional future belongs to every citizen. The enduring place of the Vanua and the equal civic dignity of all Fijians need not be competing principles. A legitimate constitutional settlement must be capable of respecting both in a uniquely Fiji constitution.
Legitimacy Cannot Be Manufactured
If the Government genuinely wants a constitutional settlement commanding national confidence, the necessary safeguards are straightforward. Extend consultation sufficiently to allow meaningful participation. Publish a comprehensive comparison between the CRC’s recommendations and the Government’s proposed amendments. Explain substantial departures. Provide independent legal analysis. Consider separate referendum questions for distinct constitutional issues. Guarantee impartial civic education, independent electoral administration and meaningful judicial oversight. Above all, welcome scrutiny rather than treating disagreement as obstruction.
These are not unreasonable demands. They are the foundations of democratic legitimacy. The Government should not confuse its authority to initiate constitutional reform with an entitlement to control the people’s decision. Nor should citizens confuse the act of voting with the exercise of genuine constitutional sovereignty.
A referendum conducted without adequate information, meaningful alternatives and sufficient deliberation may produce a numerical majority. Whether it produces enduring legitimacy is another question.
We have endured too much constitutional instability to repeat the mistakes of the past. We need a process that builds trust rather than suspicion, strengthens institutions rather than personalities, and produces a Constitution capable of commanding respect long after the present Government has departed.
A Constitution should restrain the power of governments, not become an instrument through which governments consolidate their power. That is why the process matters as much as the proposed amendments.
Give the people time. Publish the evidence. Explain the changes. Allow independent scrutiny. Trust citizens to make informed decisions.
For the ultimate question is not whether the Government can secure enough votes to change the Constitution. It is whether the people can look back, years from now, and say that the Constitution was genuinely theirs to shape.
Governments are temporary. The Constitution must endure. And the people must always remain its ultimate custodians.
