Pasifika Talanoa by a traveled ITaukei Fijian

A place to share my thoughts and reflections

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  • Veivakaturagataki or Vesumona? The Exploitation of Our Religiosity

    The spiritual identity of the iTaukei people represents a complex tapestry woven from indigenous beliefs, Christian influences, and political manipulations. When the iTaukei utter the phrase Turaga sa mai vua na Kalou (chiefs come from God), we participate in a theological construct, that has been strategically employed to advance specific religious and political agendas. This fusion of Christian doctrine with traditional chiefly systems, has created a distorted spirituality that serves power structures rather than authentic cultural or religious values; resulting in a population that is devoutly religious yet potentially manipulated, honorably traditional yet unconsciously colonized.

    Historical Manipulation and Spiritual Syncretism

    Prior to Christianization, our spirituality was deeply integrated with social structures and environmental relationships through the concept of Vanua—a holistic worldview connecting the physical and spiritual realms. Chiefs served as sacred representatives of ancestor-gods, possessing sau and mana (spiritual power and authority), while bete (priests) acted as intermediaries within a carefully balanced socio-cosmic order. This system maintained ecological and social harmony through prescribed rituals and respect for traditional knowledge holders.

    The arrival of missionaries and colonial forces, initiated a deliberate strategy of blending Christian concepts with existing structures to facilitate conversion. Missionaries employed linguistic manipulation, introducing foreign concepts like tevoro (devil) to displace existing spiritual understandings. They recognized the potency of chiefly authority and strategically positioned Christian theology to simultaneously undermine and utilize traditional power structures. The conversion of high chiefs including Ro Banuve of Rewa and Ratu Cakobau of Bau, accelerated this process, creating a syncretic system where Christian leaders gradually usurped the roles of traditional bete. This strategic co-option created what scholar Asesela Ravuvu termed “the façade of continuity” that masked fundamental transformations in spiritual power structures.

    This fusion produced a doctrine that equates chiefly authority with divine mandate—Turaga sa mai vua na Kalou. This theological innovation created a double bind for iTaukei believers: to question chiefly authority became tantamount to questioning God’s will, while to question Christian doctrine undermined the spiritual foundation of chiefly legitimacy. This confusion enabled power holders to switch between frameworks depending on what best served their interests, creating what contemporary iTaukei scholars describe as a form of spiritual colonialism that persist, generations after political independence.

    Contemporary Exploitation and Consequences

    The mutual reinforcement of religious and political institutions continues to exploit iTaukei religiosity for power maintenance. The 2010 decree replacing “Fijian” with “iTaukei” in official language superficially celebrated indigenous identity while reinforcing the taukei-vulagi (owner-stranger) dichotomy that serves political interests. This framework has been weaponized into what academics now term “taukeism”—an ideology asserting indigenous supremacy in governance and land control. The previous regime’s policy, while well-intentioned in some aspects, inadvertently ignited among many iTaukei—myself included—a defensive posture that often bypassed critical examination of its broader implications.

    The Methodist Church, to which approximately 64% of iTaukei belong, has historically advocated for “absolute control over this nation by the iTaukei,” illustrating how religious institutions endorse ethnic supremacy. This collusion benefits churches through increased influence and resources, while political leaders gain divine legitimization of their authority—particularly during constitutional crises, when appeals to Christian identity and indigenous rights justify extra-constitutional actions. The military coups demonstrated how effectively this fusion of religious and ethnic identity could be mobilized for political ends.

    The psychological and cultural toll manifests as a population that fiercely embraces Christian identity while valuing traditional customs, despite their contradictory foundations. Many iTaukei have abandoned fundamental practices like traditional kava ceremonies or observance of personal tabu, while still embracing cultural artifacts, reflecting the deep dissociation generated by centuries of spiritual manipulation. This internal conflict represents what anthropologist Arno Parrot terms, “the colonial double consciousness”—where indigenous peoples simultaneously operate within conflicting worldviews without fully inhabiting either.

    Toward Authentic Spiritual Sovereignty

    Breaking this cycle requires decolonizing thinking—critically examining historical processes and distinguishing authentic spiritual principles from exploitative mechanisms. Reclaiming pre-Christian spirituality involves recognizing that ancestral gods were not “fallen angels” but guardians of the Vanua, and reasserting the value of Vanua spirituality as an integrated worldview that connects social, environmental, and spiritual domains. Scholars like Professor Unaisi Nabobo-Baba of FNU, have called for “epistemic rediscovery” that centers iTaukei ways of knowing without automatically subordinating them to Christian frameworks.

    Authentic iTaukei spirituality must navigate between uncritical traditionalism that ignores colonial distortions and wholesale Westernization that abandons indigenous epistemology. The future lies in reclaiming the Vanua ethos that recognizes the inseparability of body and spirit, physical and spiritual worlds, and individual and community wellbeing. This involves revitalizing the understanding that Vanua, encompasses not just land but the social, spiritual, and cultural dimensions of existence—a holistic concept that predates and transcends imported religious frameworks.

    Only through this reclamation can we the iTaukei honor both our ancestral heritage and authentic spiritual aspirations, without being manipulated by power structures that exploit religiosity for control. The path forward requires courageous examination of both our Christian and traditional practices to distinguish genuine veivakaturagataki (reverence) from political vesumona (deception). It demands acknowledging that the arrival of Christianity—while bringing positive dimensions—also served as a vehicle for colonial domination that must be critically examined rather than unquestioningly celebrated. By embracing this complexity, we the iTaukei can move toward a spiritually authentic future that respects our tradition while liberating us from the manipulations of both church and government.

  • The Final Deterrent: Why Our Drug Crisis Demands a Sovereign Solution

    The recent historic convictions stemming from the seizure of over a tonne of cocaine in Nadi—a case that unveils a network of audacious, high-level international trafficking—should be a national wake-up call but why is it not? This was not a petty crime; it was an act of economic and biological warfare levied against the very heart of Fiji: our children and grandchildren. The sheer scale, valued at over a billion dollars, exposes a terrifying truth: sophisticated criminal syndicates view Fiji not as a nation to be respected, but as a soft target, a vulnerable node in a global chain of misery. The successful prosecution is a credit to the enforcement agencies involved, but it also illuminates the profound inadequacy of the current system.

    Conviction, even in a case of this magnitude, resulting in prison sentences—is a mere ‘cost of doing business’, for cartels with virtually limitless resources. This raises a painful, urgent question for us: when our nation is facing an existential threat, do we persist with a borrowed legal framework, or do we have the sovereign courage to adopt a model that guarantees justice and our survival?

    The Singaporean model provides the answer. It is not merely a set of harsh penalties; it is a comprehensive philosophy of national preservation built on the principle of ultimate deterrence. Its core tenet is that the state’s primary duty is to protect the lives and futures of its law-abiding citizens from those who would profit from their destruction. The mandatory death penalty for drug trafficking is the logical, if severe, application of this principle. It operates on a stark moral calculus: the state executes a convicted trafficker, to save thousands of unknown, potential addicts—to prevent children from being orphaned, families from being shattered, and communities from being eroded by the scourge of addiction. In Singapore, this policy is not a dark secret but a point of public consensus, with over 80% support, because its effectiveness in creating a drug-free society is undeniable.

    The contrast with the Westminster model which we have, which prioritizes the process and rights of the accused above all else, could not be more pronounced. While philosophically noble, this model is ill-equipped for a war. It is designed for a different era and a different scale of crime. A prison sentence, even a long one, is a calculable risk for a trafficker moving product worth hundreds of millions. It is a business expense. The death penalty is not. It is the one cost that cannot be factored into a business model. It is the only penalty that removes the criminal from the equation permanently, ensuring they can never corrupt again, never order a hit from behind bars, and never become a martyr for others to emulate. The Nadi convictions, as significant as they are, do not guarantee this finality. The Singaporean model does.

    Critics will rightly invoke arguments about the sanctity of life and the potential for judicial error. These concerns must be heard and guarded against with an impeccable, transparent judicial process. However, this debate forces a sobering ethical choice: whose lives is the government ultimately obligated to protect? The lives of the convicted traffickers; who knowingly and willingly engage in a trade that kills, or the countless innocent Fijians whose lives will be prematurely ended or irrevocably broken by the poison they peddle? This is the uncomfortable sovereignty of a nation under threat—it must choose which set of rights to prioritize.

    The path forward requires immense political will. It demands a government courageous enough to withstand international criticism and confident enough to explain to its people that this measure is not about bloodlust, but about love for Fiji and out children and grandchildren. It is about transforming the national slogan from a hopeful “No Drugs” into an unassailable legal reality. The Nadi case proves the threat is real and present. The Singaporean model proves a solution exists. The only remaining question is whether our government and our politicians, possesses the political courage to embrace it. I know the BLV does.

  • Time to Pass the Torch: Fiji’s Geriatric Leadership Crisis

    Our country finds itself trapped in a political time loop, governed by recycled leaders who prioritize self-preservation over visionary governance. At 78 years old, Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka’s third term exemplifies this crisis—a gerontocratic dominance that stifles innovation and ignores Fiji’s demographic reality. With over 60% of the population under 35, the nation suffers from a profound generational disconnect, that hampers progress on existential challenges.

    The December 2022 elections, produced a fragile coalition government with a razor-thin majority, rendering it more focused on political survival than transformative leadership. This administration operates in constant reactive mode, negotiating its own continuity rather than implementing bold policies for national advancement. The result is governance characterized by caution rather than courage, compromise rather than principle.

    Hon. Rabuka’s leadership style, reflects this self-preservation instinct. Having first come to power through military coups in 1987, he now positions himself as a democratic reformer. Yet his return to power, represents the recycling of political figures whose careers are rooted in our turbulent past rather than our future possibilities. This leadership vacuum has tangible consequences: climate policy remains strong on international rhetoric but extremely weak on domestic implementation, economic decisions appear reactive rather than strategic, and the drug crisis generates political point-scoring rather than evidence-based solutions. Let me not even start with our NCD crisis.

    Structural barriers compound this sad leadership deficit. The 2013 Constitution’s electoral requirements, favor established parties and marginalize new voices. The military continues to loom as a political arbiter, creating a chilling effect on innovation. Constitutional immunity clauses protect Rabuka and Bainimarama from accountability, reinforcing that power flows from coercion rather than consent.

    The most damaging aspect of all, is the systematic exclusion of youth from meaningful political participation. Digital-native generations possess exactly the skills needed for 21st-century challenges—technological fluency, climate awareness, and global connectivity—yet remain locked out of decision-making rooms. This represents not just a democratic failure but a catastrophic waste of national potential.

    Fiji’s geopolitical position adds urgency to this leadership crisis. As great power competition intensifies in the Pasifika, the nation has swung between international alignments—from Bainimarama’s pivot toward China to Rabuka’s recalibration toward traditional partners. This foreign policy oscillation reflects deeper absence of strategic consensus about our place in the world.

    The solution requires courageous institutional reform. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission should become more than political theater; revisiting the immunity clauses that perpetuate impunity. Political parties must democratize their internal structures to become incubators of talent rather than vehicles for individual ambition. The education system must prioritize critical thinking and ethical leadership over obedience.

    Most immediately, Hon. Rabuka must recognize that true leadership means knowing when to pass the torch, as I had called on before. His retirement would create space for a new generation of leaders who can transcend ethnic divisions and coup politics. These emerging leaders could leverage traditional chiefly values while embracing modern governance approaches, blending cultural continuity with innovative thinking.

    Fiji stands at a critical historical juncture. The climate crisis, economic challenges, and geopolitical pressures demand visionary leadership that looks forward rather than backward. Continuing to recycle leaders from Fiji’s coup-ridden past, condemns the nation to relive its failures rather than reinvent its future.

    The time has come for Fiji’s elder statesmen to step aside voluntarily—not as an admission of failure but as their final contribution to national development. Only through generational transition can Fiji escape its coup legacy and unleash the potential of its greatest resource: its youth. The nation doesn’t need another leader who remembers the coups of 1987; it needs leaders who can imagine Fiji in 2047 and beyond.

  • Forging a Fijian Democracy: Beyond Mimicry Towards a Model of Our Own

    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”:

    1. 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).
    2. 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.
    3. 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.

  • The Art of Pasifika Multi-Alignment

    The Solomon Islands’ decision to exclude global powers from the core deliberations of the Pacific Islands Forum (PIF) Meeting in Honiara in September, is more than a procedural adjustment. It is a seismic tremor shaking the foundations of regional diplomacy, forcing a stark confrontation with the defining geopolitical challenge of this era for Pasifika: the imperative of multi-alignment. Prime Minister Jeremiah Manele’s gambit, framed as reclaiming space for authentic Pasifika talanoa, simultaneously serves as a high-stakes litmus test. Does this move signify a collective, strategic step towards mastering the intricate art of engaging all powers simultaneously on Pasifika’s own terms? Or does it risk becoming, under the shadow of Honiara’s deepening ties with Beijing, a veiled maneuver towards realignment that fractures the very unity essential for effective multi-alignment? The answer will profoundly shape whether the Pasifika emerge as sovereign architects of our destiny or remain vulnerable pieces on others’ chessboards.

    I. The Geopolitical Crucible: Why Multi-Alignment is Non-Negotiable

    Pasifika finds itself caught in the vortex of the most intense strategic competition the region has witnessed since the WWII. The US-China rivalry is not a distant abstraction; it permeates every state, manifesting in security pacts, infrastructure investments, diplomatic offensives, and fierce competition for political influence. This superpower contest overlays the persistent, complex relationships with traditional partners like Australia and Aotearoa and engagements with other players like the EU, Japan, India, and the UK.

    · Existential Vulnerabilities Demand Diversification: Against this backdrop, the Pasifika faces existential threats that dwarf traditional security concerns for most island states. Climate Change is an immediate, relentless assault, threatening territorial integrity, freshwater security, and economic viability through sea-level rise, intensified cyclones, and ocean acidification. Economic Volatility plagues remote economies heavily reliant on tourism, fisheries, and remittances, all susceptible to global shocks. Ocean Health and Resource Management are critical for food security and economic survival. NCDs and Limited Human Resource Capacity further strain development. Crucially, no single external power possesses the resources, political will, or aligned interests to comprehensively address all these challenges. Relying solely on one patron, creates dangerous dependency, increases vulnerability to coercion and inevitably forces compromises on core Pasifika priorities to align with the patron’s strategic goals. The history of aid dependency and its often-distorting effects provides ample cautionary tales.

    · The False Binary and its Existential Poison: The pressure of the US-China rivalry actively seeks to force Pasifika states into a binary choice. This framing is not only reductive but fundamentally toxic to Pasifika’s interests. Choosing one side inherently alienates the other, sacrificing potential benefits, inviting retaliation and potentially triggering regional instability. It reduces sovereign nations to mere instruments in a global power struggle. Total isolation, conversely, is neither feasible nor desirable. Engagement is essential for accessing vital development finance, technology, markets, scientific expertise, and global platforms to advocate for existential issues like climate action. Multi-alignment, therefore, is not a policy preference; it is an indispensable survival strategy. It demands the active, skillful cultivation of relationships with all relevant powers, extracting maximum benefit while avoiding over-reliance on any single one and protecting core regional interests.

    II. Forging the Collective Tools for Multi-Alignment

    This is where the potential justification for Manele’s exclusionary move lies. The PIF often resembled a mini-UN rather than a Pasifika family meeting. The sheer cacophony of competing narratives and lobbying efforts frequently drowned out the internal consensus-building essential for the region to speak with one voice. A temporary pause from this external noise could provide the vital sanctuary needed for the Forum to focus inward and build the capacity required for effective multi-alignment. This period must be used to forge three critical tools:

    1. Defining Unshakeable Non-Negotiables: The PIF must emerge with a unified stance on core existential priorities that are non-negotiable in any engagement with partners. Foremost among these is Climate Change Action. This means collective, unequivocal demands for:

       · Radical Global Mitigation: Holding major emitters accountable to drastically reduce emissions aligned with 1.5°C pathways, leveraging the PIF’s moral authority as frontline states.

       · Urgent, Accessible Adaptation Finance: Demanding that climate finance is scaled up massively, simplified in access, and delivered directly to national and sub-national levels.

       · Loss and Damage: Securing concrete, operationalized funding mechanisms for irreversible climate impacts.

       · Ocean Stewardship: Establishing unified positions on marine protected areas, sustainable fisheries management and deep-sea mining regulation, recognizing the Blue Pasifika as the foundation of life and identity.

       · Nuclear Non-Proliferation: Reaffirming the Rarotonga Treaty and addressing concerns from nuclear testing. Removing these existential issues from the geopolitical bidding wars and presenting them as unified, non-partisan red lines is fundamental. No dialogue partner should be able to “buy” support by offering climate adaptation funds while simultaneously undermining global mitigation efforts. Multi-alignment strength begins with knowing what cannot be traded.

    2. Crafting a Unified Engagement Framework: Multi-alignment without coordination is chaos. The PIF must develop robust, collective protocols governing how the Forum engage with external partners. This framework must address:

       · Transparency and Consultation: Mechanisms for members to share information on significant bilateral agreements before they are finalized, allowing for regional discussion and minimizing surprises that destabilize cohesion.

       · Shared Red Lines: Defining collective boundaries that no external partner should cross (e.g., undermining the sovereignty of another member, violating established regional agreements).

       · Benefit Assessment and Equitable Distribution: Developing criteria to assess the true value and risks of external engagements, and exploring mechanisms to ensure benefits can be shared regionally where appropriate.

       · Coordinated Diplomacy: Strategies for leveraging collective weight in multilateral forums to advance Pasifikapriorities.

       · Dispute Resolution: Clear processes for addressing concerns within the Pasifika family arising from a member’s external engagements. This framework transforms multi-alignment from an ad-hoc national scramble into a coordinated regional strategy, amplifying the collective voice and bargaining power of each state.

    3. Building Unbreakable Internal Cohesion: The bedrock of successful multi-alignment is solidarity. A fractured PIF, riddled with mistrust or competing external allegiances, is easily divided and conquered by great powers employing classic “divide et impera” tactics. Offers of lucrative bilateral deals designed to undermine neighbors or regional positions become potent weapons. This hiatus must be used to:

       · Strengthen Pasifika Identity: Reaffirming shared history, culture and the vision of the “Blue Pasifika Continent.”

       · Rebuild Trust: Facilitating open, honest, and sometimes difficult conversations about members’ different perspectives, vulnerabilities, and external relationships within the safety of the Pasifika family.

       · Enhance Sub-Regional and Intra-Regional Cooperation: Deepening practical collaboration on issues like fisheries surveillance, disaster response, health, and education, demonstrating the tangible benefits of unity.

       · Address Historical Grievances: Acknowledging and working through historical tensions to build a more resilient collective. Unity is not uniformity; it is the strength derived from diversity harnessed towards common goals. This internal strength is the power source that makes multi-alignment a strategy of strength.

    III. The Solomons’ Shadow: Multi-Alignment or Veiled Realignment? The Risk of Fracture

    The profound risk associated with Manele’s move lies not in the concept of a pause itself, but in its timing, perception, and the specific context of Solomon Islands’ foreign policy.

    · Timing Amidst the Storm: Implementing this exclusion precisely at the zenith of the US-China rivalry in the Pasifika is inherently provocative. It occurs when both powers are pouring unprecedented resources into the region. Slamming the door now inevitably appears less like a neutral housekeeping measure and more like a deliberate act taking sides that favours one actor. It fuels suspicion that the goal is not balanced multi-alignment, but the creation of a space less scrutinized by powers perceived as hostile to Honiara’s chosen partner.

    · The Beijing Backdrop: Solomon Islands’ decisive 2019 switch from Taiwan to China, followed by the highly controversial 2022 security agreement, provides an unavoidable context. The secrecy surrounding the security pact negotiations and its perceived potential to facilitate a Chinese military presence deeply alarmed neighbors. Against this backdrop, Honiara championing the exclusion of the US and others from the PIF dialogue space is widely interpreted, as an extension of its deepening alignment with Beijing. It creates a perception that the move is designed to:

      · Avoid Scrutiny: Shield bilateral Solomons-China dealings from critical regional discussion within the PIF.

      · Stifle Dissent: Suppress criticism from fellow Forum members regarding the implications of Honiara’s alignment for regional security and unity.

      · Tilt the Environment: Subtly shift the regional diplomatic atmosphere by removing countervailing voices from the premier forum, making it easier for a particular narrative to dominate.

    · Echoes of Discord Within the Family: The reactions from key PIF members are not mere procedural objections; they are alarm bells ringing for the very foundations of multi-alignment.

      · Fiji’s Sitiveni Rabuka warned bluntly that the move could “blow up decades of Pasifika unity.” This reflects a core fear: that the exclusion, driven by one nation’s specific alignment, will fragment the Forum, making collective action and the unified front essential for multi-alignment impossible.

      · Aotearoa’s Winston Peters expressed concern about “external influences” shaping the decision – diplomatic code for deep suspicion about Beijing’s hand in Honiara’s move. This highlights the corrosive effect of mistrust: if members believe a fellow state is acting as a proxy for an external power, the solidarity needed for multi-alignment evaporates.

      · Smaller island states may feel caught in the middle, wary of alienating either Honiara (and potentially Beijing) or the concerns voiced by Fiji/NZ.

    The Critical Question: Is Manele’s gambit genuinely strengthening the collective capacity of all Pasifika states to engage all partners more effectively and autonomously? Or is it, intentionally or not, facilitating a de facto realignment by stealth for Solomon Islands thereby weakening the collective position and leverage of the PIF as a whole? True multi-alignment requires unwavering confidence that every Forum member is fundamentally committed to the collective strategy, not exploiting the pause for unilateral advantage that undermines the group’s cohesion and bargaining power. The shadow of Honiara’s Beijing ties, casts deep doubt on this confidence.

    IV. Charting the Path Forward: From Sanctuary to Strategic Hub

    The exclusion of dialogue partners only serves Pasifika sovereignty if it is demonstrably, transparently used to build the infrastructure for stronger, more confident, and more strategic multi-aligned engagement. Failure to do so will render the move a costly mistake, potentially fracturing the PIF and leaving individual states more exposed. Success hinges on three pillars:

    1. Uncompromising Transparency: The internal PIF discussions during this period must be focused on collective Pasifika priorities and the development of the multi-alignment toolbox. The agenda, process, and the outcomes of these discussions, must be transparently shared among all members. Any perception that this hiatus is being used to advance bilateral Solomons-China interests, will be fatal to trust and unity. Independent facilitation or clear reporting mechanisms may be necessary to bolster credibility.

    2. Inclusive Consensus Through Vigorous Debate: True Pasifika unity is not forged through imposed silence or the suppression of dissent. Fiji’s concerns, Aotearoa’s wariness and the perspectives of every member, must be heard and addressed head-on within the Forum. This requires creating a safe space for talanoa – open, respectful, but frank and sometimes difficult conversations about security perceptions, external relationships, and fears of fragmentation or external influence. Unity forged through navigating these complex discussions is infinitely more resilient than a superficial consensus achieved by sidelining uncomfortable truths. Mechanisms for mediating disputes or differing viewpoints need strengthening.

    3. The Imperative of the 2026 Re-engagement Blueprint: The ultimate success or failure of this hiatus will be judged solely on what is presented to the dialogue partners in 2026. The PIF must emerge with:

       · A Crystal-Clear, Unified Position on core non-negotiables.

       · A Robust, Operational Framework for engaging external partners, detailing protocols for transparency, consultation, red lines, benefit assessment, and coordinated diplomacy.

       · Demonstrably Stronger Internal Cohesion and trust among members.

       · A Confident, Strategic Approach outlining how the Pasifika intends to leverage its collective position within the multi-polar world. This blueprint must articulate how the region will engage the US, China, and all others on Pasifika terms, setting clear expectations and demonstrating the collective will to enforce them. It should position the PIF not just as a recipient of aid or a venue for others’ agendas, but as an active, strategic hub, shaping its own future through multi-alignment.

    V. Conclusion: Weaving the Unbreakable Net of Sovereignty

    The Solomon Islands’ decision to shut the door on global powers within the PIF is a stark and urgent reminder of the precariousness of Pasifika’s position in the 21st-century geopolitical order. It embodies the intense yearning for self-determination, control, and a voice unmediated by giants. Yet, it also highlights the ever-present peril of becoming unwitting instruments in others’ strategic designs, or of internal divisions fracturing the collective strength that is the region’s only true shield.

    Pasifika’s future cannot lie in nostalgic isolationism nor in the seductive trap of choosing a single patron. The path to genuine sovereignty, resilience, and the ability to confront existential threats like climate change winds necessarily through the mastery of multi-alignment. This is not hedging or opportunism; it is the sophisticated, necessary statecraft of vulnerable yet determined nations navigating a multi-polar storm. It demands recognizing that strength lies in diversity of partnerships, managed collectively with wisdom and unwavering principle.

    Manele’s move presents a high-risk, high-reward scenario. It could be the catalyst that forces the Pasifika family to forge the tools – unshakeable unity, non-negotiable priorities, and a strategic engagement framework – essential to navigate the treacherous waters of US-China rivalry as empowered players. Used wisely, the “sanctuary” becomes a crucible, a workshop where the net of sovereignty is woven from multiple, strong threads of partnership. Each thread – engagement – must be carefully selected and integrated, creating a whole far stronger than the sum of its parts, capable of lifting Pasifika above the status of pawns.

    Conversely, if this hiatus becomes a cover for veiled realignment, deepens mistrust, or fails to produce concrete results, it risks shattering decades of Pasifika unity. The door slammed shut may not just keep external powers out; it could lock the Pasifika into a future of increased vulnerability, fragmentation, and dependency, where individual nations are picked off by competing powers, their sovereignty diminished rather than enhanced.

    The responsibility now rests squarely on the shoulders of all Pasifika leaders. They owe it to their people, as custodians of their lands, cultures, and futures, to rise above the “geopolitical games.” They must seize this moment not for evasion or narrow national advantage, but for the arduous, essential work of forging an unbreakable internal consensus rooted in shared Pasifika values and existential needs. They must emerge in 2026 not just with a quieter forum, but with a transformed PIF: a confident collective, speaking with a single, powerful, and truly independent voice, equipped with the strategic vision and robust mechanisms to engage the world on its own terms.

    The era of passive reception is over. The multi-polar storm is here. The sanctuary must be a forge, not a hiding place. The future belongs not to those who choose one master or none, but to those who master the art of engaging many. Pasifika’s sovereignty depends on its ability to weave this complex, resilient net of multi-alignment. The time for decisive, collective action is now.

  • Constitutional Crucible: Forging True iTaukei Sovereignty by Restructuring Power

    The stark lesson from Papua New Guinea (PNG) is undeniable: meaningful sovereignty for indigenous landowners begins not with administrative tweaks, but with constitutional bedrock. PNG’s explicit recognition that “all customary land is the property of the customary owners” (Constitution, Section 53) stands in radical contrast to Fiji’s Native Land Trust Act, which vests “control” in a state-appointed Board (TLTB). This comparison shatters any illusion that the TLTB’s colonial structure can be reformed, while remaining subordinate to the Fijian state. The path forward for the iTaukei, demands a revolutionary constitutional settlement, placing the Bose Levu Vakaturaga (BLV), at the helm of a profoundly restructured system, learning from both PNG’s empowerment and its challenges.

    PNG’s Beacon: Constitutional Recognition as Non-Negotiable Foundation

    PNG’s framework offers the BLV a powerful blueprint for its core demand:

    1.  Sovereignty Anchored in Law: PNG’s constitution places customary ownership beyond state whim. This is the essential first step Fiji must take. A new Fijian constitution, must explicitly state that customary resources are vested in the iTaukei Resource Owning Units (ROUs), recognizing their inherent, inalienable rights. This eradicates the legal fiction of state “trusteeship” embedded in the TLTB Act.

    2.  Decentralized Power, BLV as Guardian: PNG has no TLTB. Management rests directly with clans/tribes. Fiji can adapt this by constitutionally mandating the BLV as the supreme traditional body responsible for safeguarding iTaukei customary law, land rights, and resource sovereignty. The BLV becomes the constitutional guardian of Vanua principles, ensuring ROU autonomy while providing overarching guidance and dispute resolution based on custom, not state policy.

    3.  Rejecting State “Control”: PNG proves a centralized state board controlling indigenous land is not inevitable. Fiji’s constitution must prohibit any state entity from assuming “control” or “administration” of customary land and resources, in the manner of the current TLTB. The state’s role shifts to registration support, legal protection, and facilitating negotiations requested by ROUs, not dictating terms.

    Beyond PNG: The Imperative of BLV-Led Institutional Restructuring

    Constitutional recognition alone, however, is insufficient. PNG’s struggles with implementation offer crucial warnings and necessitate a robust BLV-led institutional framework:

    *   The Hybrid Solution: A BLV-Subordinate Resources Authority: Abolishing TLTB overnight risks chaos. Instead, transform it into a technical Resources Authority directly accountable to the BLV, not the Ministry of iTaukei Affairs. Its mandate shifts fundamentally:

        *   From Controller to Facilitative Servant: It serves ROUs at their direction, providing technical expertise (surveying, valuation, lease drafting), financial management, dispute resolution facilitation, and maintaining registries – not making leasing decisions.

        *   BLV Oversight & Policy: The BLV sets the policy framework for this Authority, ensuring its operations align with Vanua principles and prioritize ROU empowerment. The BLV appoints its leadership and audits its performance.

        *   Building ROU Capacity: A core function becomes intensive training for ROUs in negotiation, financial and digital literacy, sustainable development, and legal rights – addressing the capacity gap that plagues PNG and leaves landowners vulnerable.

    *   Learning from PNG’s Pitfalls: Safeguarding Against Exploitation:

        *   FPIC as Constitutional Right: Free, Prior, and Informed Consent (FPIC), must be constitutionally enshrined for all land and resource dealings, surpassing PNG’s weaker implementation. The BLV Resources Authority acts as an independent verifier of FPIC, protecting ROUs from coercion.

        *   Transparent & Accountable ROUs: To combat “elite capture” seen in PNG, the BLV must champion robust, transparent governance structures within ROUs (e.g., strengthened Mataqali/Vanua councils). The BLV Resources Authority can provide governance training and support audits.

        *   Rigorous Lease-Leaseback Scrutiny: If a mechanism similar to PNG’s SPABL (state lease-back) is considered for large-scale projects, the BLV Resources Authority must act as a fiercely independent watchdog, ensuring genuine ROU consent, fair terms, and preventing land grabs. Ideally, ROUs should deal directly with developers where capacity allows, bypassing the state middleman.

        *   Minerals: The Unfinished Business: The constitution must explicitly challenge the state’s theft of subsurface rights. The BLV must lead the fight for iTaukei ownership or co-ownership of minerals, ensuring communities share equitably in the wealth extracted from their Vanua.

    Why Constitutional Change is the Only Viable Starting Point

    Attempting to “reform” TLTB within the current constitutional framework is doomed:

    1.  Legitimizing the Lie: It perpetuates the state’s illegitimate claim to “control” iTaukei land. Real change requires dismantling the legal basis of this control.

    2.  Vulnerability to Politics: State-controlled institutions (even renamed or “restructured”) remain subject to shifting political winds, budgets, and the “national interest” defined by non-iTaukei priorities. Constitutional entrenchment provides stability.

    3.  Empowering the BLV Meaningfully: Restoring the BLV without constitutional authority over its core institutions (land, qoliqoli, affairs) renders it a ceremonial body. True leadership requires sovereign jurisdiction.

    The Call: A Constitutional Mandate for BLV Sovereignty

    The BLV must seize the momentum generated by Dr. Ponipate Rokolekutu’s recent analysis, Rabuka’s 2022 campaign promises, and the powerful example of PNG. Its demand must be unequivocal:

    “It must call for a new constitutional order that:

    1.  Explicitly vests ownership and management authority of iTaukei customary resources in the Resource Owning Units.

    2.  Recognizes the Bose Levu Vakaturaga, as the supreme traditional guardian of iTaukei custom, land rights, and resource sovereignty, empowered to oversee and guide the implementation of these rights.

    3.  Mandates the creation of a BLV-accountable Resource Authority, replacing TLTB, to serve ROUs with technical expertise, transparency, and unwavering loyalty to Vanua interests.

    4.  Enshrines Free, Prior, and Informed Consent as a non-derogable right for all land and resource dealings.

    5.  Initiates the process to restore iTaukei rights over subsurface minerals.”

    Conclusion: From Colonial Shackles to Constitutional Sovereignty

    Papua New Guinea illuminates the path: customary resources sovereignty is achievable when constitutionally enshrined and fiercely guarded. Fiji’s iTaukei are not asking for a privilege; they demand the restoration of a fundamental right stolen by colonial law and perpetuated by the neo-colonial state. The hybrid model – a constitutionally empowered BLV overseeing a restructured, service-oriented Resources Authority – offers a pragmatic yet revolutionary path. It learns from PNG’s empowerment while proactively addressing its implementation challenges. This is not mere administrative change; it is a constitutional revolution. The BLV must lead this fight, not just for resources, but for the very soul and future of the Vanua. The time for tinkering with TLTB is over. The time for constitutional recognition of BLV-led iTaukei sovereignty is now.

  • Two Names, One Nation: Forging Fiji’s Covenant

    We stand at a crossroads of history and hope. Our journey as a nation has brought us far, yet the path to a more perfect union stretches before us, demanding our courage, our integrity, and our collective will. This journey is not mapped by foreign ideas but charted by the unique contours of our Vanua, our people, and a simple, profound idea that can define our future: that the term ‘iTaukei’ remains the exclusive and honoured name for the First People, the guardians of the Vanua, the owners of the land and resources, their heritage safeguarded by the Bose Levu Vakaturaga. And that the name ‘Fijian’ belongs to every single citizen of this nation.

    This is more than semantics; it is the decolonization of our identity and the foundation of our covenant. It grants the iTaukei the unequivocal recognition and security we deserve as the indigenous people, while offering every citizen – whether their ancestors walked these shores for millennia or arrived through the trials of girmit – the unequivocal belonging they crave under the shared banner of a common nationality. To be ‘iTaukei’ is to speak of ancestral identity. To be ‘Fijian’ is to swear allegiance to a common destiny.

    This foundational recognition is the first and most critical step toward reconciliation. For the Indo-Fijian community, it means moving beyond mere acknowledgment, to a deep, respectful understanding of we, the iTaukei as the First People. It is to honour the sanctity we hold of our Vanua – that profound, spiritual connection we have to land, resources, ancestry, and heritage that is not merely a concept but a living, breathing reality. The Bose Levu Vakaturaga is not a political relic but the steward of this soul, a vital institution that embodies custom, social structure, and a direct link to the ancestors. To understand this is to understand the very bedrock of our iTaukei identity.

    From this place of security and respect, a powerful, reciprocal belonging can flourish. It enables the iTaukei community, confident in the protection of our unique heritage, to extend the hand of unconditional family-hood, to fully integrate every citizen as an indispensable partner in our Fijian story. It is the only way an Indo-Fijian can truly say, “My home is here, my roots are deep, and my future is Fijian,” without reservation.

    Yet, this covenant of mutual recognition is not tested in grand declarations but in our daily actions. It is broken by the stereotype in a boardroom where an Indo-Fijian business owner, perhaps clinging to a misplaced sense of cultural superiority, overlooks iTaukei talent, perpetuating harmful myths about work ethic. This is not just a bad business practice; it is a failure to invest in the nation’s full potential and a rejection of the shared community the Vanua represents. True, inclusive prosperity is the only prosperity that will last.

    Conversely, the covenant is shattered when an iTaukei individual, burdened by historical grievance, unleashes that pain upon an Indo-Fijian citizen with a hateful shout. This act is a betrayal of the very values of the Vanua, which teaches veilomani (love and compassion) and veirogorogoci (respect). It denies the fundamental truth that the Indo-Fijian community has no other home; their roots are deep in Fijian soil, and their future is irrevocably tied to ours.

    This project of nation-building extends beyond social harmony to our economic sovereignty, where our communities have distinct but interconnected roles and responsibilities. True belief in Fiji is measured in more than words; it is measured in where we choose to invest our prosperity. The practice of transfer pricing, where wealth – predominantly from successful non-ITaukei businesses – is shifted abroad, drains the lifeblood from our economy. This is not merely a business decision; it is a choice between investing in Fiji or abandoning it. It is a betrayal of the very community and nation that fostered that success.

    This internal abdication stands in stark contrast to the external faith shown from afar. The immense remittances sent home, primarily by iTaukei workers and those living abroad, represent a powerful stream of investment and a profound vote of confidence. These funds, earned through sacrifice and hard work, are a lifeline of love that directly supports families, builds homes, and fuels local economies across our islands. If our iTaukei family abroad believes in us so fiercely, how can those who prosper on Fijian soil every day believe any less? This diaspora are our ambassadors and champions, demonstrating daily what true commitment to Fiji looks like. Their contribution, and that of the Indo-Fijian diaspora who also invest and remit, fortifies Fiji’s standing as a regional power, a status earned by the hard work of all our people.

    Our journey toward a more perfect union, is further complicated by the tensions that exist not just between our communities, but within them. We are not monolithic blocks. Within the iTaukei community, deep fissures exist, mirroring global divides. There are tensions between the fundamentalists and the secular, vividly illustrated in the fierce debate over support for Israel and the proposed embassy in Jerusalem. This is not a simple foreign policy issue; it strikes at the heart of religious identity, political alignment, and modern versus traditional worldviews, creating a schism as complex and passionate as that within Israel itself.

    Similarly, the Indo-Fijian community carries the enduring legacy of the subcontinent’s partition. The historical fractures between India and Pakistan continue to weave their way into modern Fiji, manifesting in cultural, religious, and sometimes political undertones, that influence community dynamics. These internal divisions are not signs of weakness; they are the realities of a living, breathing democracy. They are the many roads that one bus must travel on the route to nationhood. They make the need for a unifying, national identity – Fijian – all the more critical.

    This is precisely why we must banish extremism of any shape or form into irrelevance. Our effort to build a more perfect union requires a conscious citizenship that embraces complexity, rejects purity tests, and seeks the common good. It demands that we champion the cause of iTaukei aspiration not as a threat, but as the just and necessary foundation for true peace. It demands that iTaukei leadership and society open the doors of belonging so wide, that every citizen feels an unconditional sense of home. It demands that our economic choices—from the largest corporate boardroom to the smallest market stall—are made with a single, unifying purpose.

    We are not without a blueprint for this complex work. Look to the spirit of Suva Grammar School, a microcosm of the Fiji we strive to become. On its grounds, the distinctions of background fade into the shared identity of being an Old Scholar. iTaukei, Indo-Fijian, and every other community stand side-by-side, united by a common experience, mutual respect, and a collective pride. The school did not erase their identities; it layered upon them a greater, shared identity—that of a family. This is the model we must scale to the nation.

    A more perfect union is within our grasp. It is a Fiji where the iTaukei heritage is honoured without question, where every citizen belongs utterly as a Fijian without reservation, and where our economic choices are made for the collective good. It is a nation that acknowledges its internal complexities but is not defined by them.

    Our children and grandchildren will not ask us how much wealth we accumulated for ourselves. They will ask what we built for them. They will ask if we were brave enough to confront the hard truths, to invest in the difficult conversations, and to choose the collective “us” over the comfortable “I.” Let us bequeath them a nation united in spirit and thriving in fact—a true testament to our covenant of Viti, built on the powerful, inclusive truth of two honoured names.

  • Why Support for Modern Israel Is Not a Christian Imperative

    1 Understanding the Theological Distinction Between Biblical and Modern Israel

      The core of Christian fundamentalist’s argument rests on a theological conflation of modern Israel with biblical Israel—a position that numerous Christian scholars and theologians have robustly challenged. Modern Israel is a secular nation-state established in 1948 through geopolitical processes, while biblical Israel represents a covenant community within God’s salvation history . The New Testament itself demonstrates that God’s promises to ancient Israel, find their fulfillment in Jesus Christ, through whom blessings extend to all peoples.

      Theologically, Romans 11 speaks of spiritual grafting into God’s covenant people through Christ—not political support for any modern nation-state. The Apostle Paul’s metaphor emphasizes the inclusive nature of God’s salvation available to Jews and Gentiles alike through faith, not ethnic or national affiliation. This understanding prevents the theological error of equating modern state policies with divine endorsement.

      2 The Ethical Imperative: Principled Non-Alignment in the Face of Injustice

      The Pasifika Conference of Churches (PCC) advocates for principled non-alignment—a position that engages all parties while refusing to remain neutral in the face of injustice . This approach reflects Jesus’s command to “love your neighbor” (Matthew 22:39) by prioritizing human dignity, international law, and civilian protection over partisan political alliances .

      Reverend Bhagwan and the PCC have explicitly condemned all forms of violence—including Hamas’s initial attack—while emphasizing that criticism of the Israeli government’s policies does not constitute antisemitism. Their statement affirms: “We grieve every life taken and reject every hatred—antisemitism, anti-Arab racism, and Islamophobia”. This balanced position recognizes the historical suffering of Jewish people while acknowledging the current plight of Palestinians.

      The PCC’s call for Palestinian recognition at the UN General Assembly stems from the same commitment to self-determination that Pasifika nations have sought in our own decolonization journeys. This consistency is what Reverend Bhagwan means by an “Ocean of Peace”—a vision that demands ethical coherence rather than selective application of principles .

      3 The Pasifika Context: Why Fiji’s Embassy Decision now is Problematic

      The Fiji government’s decision to establish an embassy in Jerusalem at this time, contradicts international consensus that the city’s status should be resolved through final-status negotiations . The PCC has cautioned against this move precisely because it prejudges Jerusalem’s status and potentially normalizes ongoing violations of international law .

      Prime Minister Rabuka’s claim that this is “not a religious decision” but rather “strategic engagement” rings hollow when considering Fiji’s own peacekeeping history in the region. Fijian soldiers have witnessed firsthand the devastating consequences of conflict, including the 1996 Qana massacre where Israeli shelling killed 106 Lebanese civilians sheltering at a UN compound. This historical context makes Fiji’s diplomatic move particularly morally troubling.

      The PCC’s critique is not about rejecting dialogue with Israel but about ensuring that engagement serves peace with justice. As Reverend Bhagwan notes: “We cannot talk about the killing of thousands of people, unarmed civilians, children, the destruction of humanitarian spaces and at the same time talk about relationship with the countries that are perpetrating this violence” .

      4 Conclusion: Toward a Consistent Christian Witness

      Christian support for the modern state of Israel is not a theological imperative but a political choice—one that must be evaluated based on its alignment with Christian values of justice, peace, and human dignity. The Pasifika Conference of Churches offers a theologically robust and ethically consistent framework that:

      1. Distinguishes between biblical Israel and the modern state of Israel
      2. Affirms the equal worth and dignity of both Israeli and Palestinian people
      3. Advocates for peace based on international law and human rights
      4. Rejects all forms of violence and discrimination

      This approach honors Christianity’s Jewish roots while recognizing that the church’s primary allegiance is to God’s kingdom—not any earthly nation. As Jesus told Pilate: “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36). Our call as Christians is to bear witness to this alternative reality where peace is established through justice, reconciliation through truth, and security through equal rights for all .

      Rev. James Bhagwan and the Pasifika Conference of Churches, exemplify this prophetic witness—one that speaks truth to power while extending compassion to all affected by conflict. This is not abandonment of Christian roots but rather its fullest expression.

    1. The Unforgivable Choice: My Struggle to See a Human Behind the Enemy

      I am writing this to myself, because the person I fear I’m becoming is watching closely.

      The news of Charlie Kirk’s death didn’t sadden me. My first reaction was colder, sharper—a quiet, unsettling sense of irony. It was the easy response, the one that required nothing of me but a cynical shrug. It felt like a victory for my side. And that is what terrified me.

      Because just a week earlier, a different death in the Pasifika, reflected my own hypocrisy back at me. In Fiji, Dr. Isireli Biumaitotoya—a beloved, controversial, and vibrant transgender known as Leli Darling—was murdered. The social media response was not grief, but a grotesque eruption of hate, a chorus of bigotry celebrating the silencing of a voice that dared to live openly.

      Two deaths. Two ideologies. One identical, chilling failure of humanity. And I felt it in myself.

      This is my uncomfortable truth: my initial instinct was not compassion. It was tribalism. It was to perform a crude calculus of grief, to measure the value of a life based on its political utility. To see a point on a scoreboard, not a shattered family.

      I am writing to fight that instinct. I am writing to choose the harder path.

      To the family and friends of Charlie Kirk: Your grief is real. To dismiss your pain as an acceptable casualty in a culture war would be to commit the very sin of dehumanization I claim to oppose. To love people who loved him means I must honor the weight you carry. I choose your humanity.

      To the memory of Leli Darling and her grieving mother: Your humanity was attacked twice—first by violence, then by a torrent of cruel words that shame our species. To remain silent in the face of that hatred would be a betrayal of everything I believe. I choose to condemn that poison unconditionally.

      This is the unforgivable choice we are forced to make in a broken world: to hold two crushing truths at once.

      1. Truth One: A complex, imperfect human being is gone, and a circle of love around them has been shattered.
      2. Truth Two: The ideas they championed have real and often devastating consequences.

      To ignore the first truth is to become the cold, cruel monster you oppose. To ignore the second is to be a naive bystander to harm. The only way through is to stand in the painful, dizzying space between them.

      So this is my challenge to you, and my note to my future self:

      The next time a polarizing figure falls, pause. Breathe. Before you share, before you comment, before you let that wave of tribal satisfaction wash over you, ask:

      • Do my words widen the rift or help stitch it closed?
      • Am I arguing against a deadly idea, or am I celebrating the death of a person?
      • Does my reaction make violence more or less likely?

      We are sliding into a world where our digital rage licenses real-world cruelty. We are becoming mirror images of our enemies, arguing against hate with hate.

      The world does not need more soldiers in this war. It needs healers. It needs people brave enough to do the hardest work: to see a human behind the label of “enemy,” and to choose empathy, not because it is easy, but because it is the only thing left that can save us from ourselves.

      I am trying to build a soul that is a refuge, not a weapon. This is the mirror I choose to look into.

      Which will you choose?

    2. Fiji’s Jerusalem Embassy: The Betrayal of Peacekeeping Legacy Amidst Bloodshed

      1 The Unflinching March to Jerusalem: Fiji’s Diplomatic Triumph or Moral Failure?

      Despite widespread condemnation from human rights organizations, Pacific regional bodies, and its own citizens, the Fiji government remains steadfast in its decision to open its embassy in Jerusalem next week. This move, touted as a “strategic step” to deepen cooperation with Israel, comes at a time when Israeli military operations in Gaza have killed tens of thousands of Palestinian civilians, including numerous children, and reduced much of the territory to ruins. The timing underscores a profound moral disconnect between Fiji’s celebrated peacekeeping legacy and its current foreign policy alignment with a nation whose military actions have been repeatedly condemned by international bodies.

      Prime Minister Rabuka’s government defends the decision as an act of engagement intended to “build bridges and promote dialogue”. Yet this diplomatic rhetoric rings hollow, when contrasted with the horrific reality of Israel’s recent attack on Doha, which killed a Qatari security officer and several Hamas affiliates; and was unanimously condemned by the UN Security Council, as an “alarming escalation” that violates sovereignty and threatens regional stability. Rosemary DiCarlo, the UN’s top political affairs official, warned that such actions “undermine the work of mediation and dialogue [and] weaken confidence in the very mechanisms we depend on for conflict resolution”.

      2 Historical Amnesia: From Qana to Gaza

      The bitter irony of Fiji’s decision is magnified by its historical role as a UN peacekeeper in conflicts involving Israel. In 1996, Fijian peacekeepers were stationed at the Battalion Headquarters in Qana, Lebanon, when Israeli artillery shells struck the facility, killing 106 Lebanese civilians and injuring 116 others, along with four Fijian UN peacekeepers. A United Nations investigation concluded that the Israeli shelling was deliberate, based on video evidence showing an Israeli reconnaissance drone over the compound before the attack.

      The Qana massacre occurred during Operation Grapes of Wrath, when Israeli forces attempted to stop Hezbollah rocket fire into northern Israel. Israel claimed the shelling was intended to cover an Israeli special forces unit that had come under mortar fire near the compound, but the UN investigation found evidence of a perceptible shift in fire from the mortar site to the UN compound. This historical context makes Fiji’s current embrace of Israel particularly ethically problematic—the same nation that killed civilians under UN protection now receives Fiji’s diplomatic rewards.

      3 Moral Hypocrisy: Peacekeeping Values vs. Political Expediency

      Fiji’s decision represents a fundamental betrayal of the values underpinning its UN peacekeeping legacy. For decades, Fiji has contributed more troops per capita to UN peacekeeping than any other country, building an international reputation as a neutral protector of civilians in conflict zones. This legacy includes the 2014 incident in the Golan Heights when 44 Fijian peacekeepers were taken hostage by al-Qaeda-linked insurgents and required Qatari mediation for their release.

      The moral contradiction is staggering: Qatar, which helped secure the release of Fijian peacekeepers, now suffers an Israeli attack on its sovereignty that the UN Security Council unanimously condemns. Meanwhile, Fiji prepares to open an embassy in Jerusalem, effectively rewarding Israel for behavior that violates international norms. This decision demonstrates a foreign policy devoid of moral consistency—one that abandons the principles of neutrality, civilian protection, and respect for sovereignty that have long defined Fiji’s peacekeeping contributions.

      Reverend James Bhagwan, general secretary of the Pacific Conference of Churches, aptly notes that this move “sits uneasily with the vision of an ocean of peace, which is one that is demilitarised, that is decolonising, and of course of which is grounded in international law”. He emphasizes that “non-alignment must be principled and not passive”—a clear indictment of Fiji’s abandonment of its traditional neutral stance.

      4 The Religious Card: Manipulating Faith for Political Gain

      The Fijian government’s decision appears influenced by domestic religious sentiment rather than sound foreign policy principles. Professor Jioji Ravulo, a prominent Fijian academic at the University of Sydney, explains that “a religious devotion to the modern state of Israel is entrenched among many Fijians,” connected to “the idea of the biblical Israel and the way in which our indigenous communities in Fiji connect to that”.

      Shamima Ali, Coordinator of the Fiji Women’s Crisis Centre, believes Prime Minister Rabuka is “playing to the masses,” noting: “I don’t believe that he is stupid enough to go along with this whole thing of the lost tribe of Israel and so on. I think it’s just about buying votes because he does know where the majority sentiment is”. This exploitation of religious devotion for political gain, represents a cynical manipulation of public sentiment that disregards both historical context and current humanitarian realities.

      5 Ethical Foreign Policy: A Three-Dimensional Failure

      Fiji’s decision fails on all three dimensions of ethical foreign policy evaluation: intentions, means, and consequences.

      5.1 Questionable Intentions

      While the government claims the embassy represents “strategic engagement” rather than endorsement of Israeli policies, the timing and location suggest otherwise. Establishing a diplomatic presence in Jerusalem—a contested city whose status remains unresolved under international law—implicitly endorses Israel’s claim to the city as its capital. This move comes amid Israel’s violent expansionism in the West Bank, where Prime Minister Netanyahu has explicitly rejected a Palestinian state, declaring “There will never be a Palestinian state. This place is ours”.

      5.2 Harmful Means

      The means of achieving this diplomatic goal—exploiting religious sentiment, ignoring historical context, and disregarding regional partners like Qatar—demonstrate an absence of virtuous leadership. Virtues essential to ethical foreign policy include honesty, accountability, respectfulness, and fairness. Fiji’s approach lacks these qualities, instead exhibiting political expediency and moral shortsightedness.

      5.3 Damaging Consequences

      The consequences of Fiji’s decision are likely to include:

      · Undermining regional solidarity: Fiji isolates itself from Pacific consensus on Palestine and contradicts broader Pacific concerns about self-determination and human rights.
      · Damaging peacekeeping credibility: Fiji’s perceived alignment with Israel compromises its future effectiveness as a neutral peacekeeper in conflicts involving Israel or its neighbors.
      · Legitimizing violations: The embassy move lends implicit legitimacy to Israel’s occupation of Palestinian territories and its recent violation of Qatari sovereignty.

      6 Conclusion: A Call for Moral Consistency

      Fiji’s decision to open an embassy in Jerusalem next week represents not just poor timing but a fundamental betrayal of the values that have made its international peacekeeping contributions so valued. By aligning with Israel amid its devastating campaign in Gaza and violation of Qatari sovereignty, the Fijian government abandons the principles of neutrality, civilian protection, and respect for international law that have long defined its foreign policy.

      The ghosts of Qana—where 106 Lebanese civilians died under UN protection amid Israeli shelling—should give Fiji pause about embracing Israel without conditions. So too should Qatar’s role in securing the release of Fijian peacekeepers in 2014, contrasted with Israel’s recent attack on Doha that threatened regional stability.

      True leadership would require either conditioning diplomatic engagement on Israel’s respect for international law and humanitarian principles or maintaining the neutral positioning that has made Fiji’s peacekeeping contributions so valuable. As the Pacific Conference of Churches has highlighted, Fiji cannot simultaneously promote an “Ocean of Peace” while aligning with parties engaged in violence against civilians.

      One can only hope that Fiji will reconsider this diplomatically reckless and morally compromised decision before the embassy opening next week. If not, the Fijian government will have chosen political expediency over principled statecraft—and in doing so, betrayed the legacy of its peacekeepers who have sacrificed so much to protect civilians in conflict zones worldwide.