Pasifika Talanoa by a traveled ITaukei Fijian

A place to share my thoughts and reflections

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  • The Pacific’s Prophetic Paradox: Faith, Myth, and the Unwavering Support for Israel

    The fascinating and deeply reported account of the Pasifika’s allegiance to Israel reveals a complex tapestry of faith, identity politics, and geopolitical strategy. From the Negev Desert to the jungles of Malaita and the government offices of Draiba, a powerful narrative—the myth of the Lost Tribes of Israel—has been woven, binding remote island nations to a distant conflict in the Middle East. However, this unwavering support, born from a desire for significance and spiritual homecoming, appears to many observers as a profound paradox. While presented as a righteous stand for an “elder brother,” this alignment, championed by fundamentalist Christian leaders, often overlooks a critical examination of both scripture and the stark reality of Israel’s modern actions, culminating in what can only be described as a tragic abdication of moral responsibility in the face of the devastating genocide in Gaza.

    The allure of the Lost Tribes myth is undeniably powerful, especially for nations historically relegated to the margins of global affairs. For the people of Fiji, the Solomon Islands, and others, the story is not mere folklore; it is a theological and historical anchor. It transforms them from inhabitants of “the ends of the earth” into central players in a millennia-old biblical saga. As Robert Kaua in the Solomons articulated, this belief provides a “lifetime commitment,” a sense of divine purpose that elevates their national identity above one of mere post-colonial struggle. This deep-seated need for a glorious past and a significant future is a potent force. When combined with the evangelical framework that views the modern state of Israel as a prerequisite for Christ’s second coming, it creates an ideological imperative to defend it unconditionally. The emotional resonance is clear: the Fijian marchers waving Israeli flags and blowing shofars genuinely feel they are championing their own family.

    Yet, this fervent belief is dangerously susceptible to manipulation, both from within and without. The reporting exposes a startling cynicism among the myth’s most prominent champions. The retired Solomon Islands warlord Jimmy Lusibaea admits the story was a useful tool for morale, a banner under which to wage a holy war, yet he privately expresses uncertainty about its truth. Fiji’s Deputy Prime Minister Viliame Gavoka, who leverages the myth for political capital, squirms and stammers when asked directly for his belief, eventually conceding it’s a useful narrative to make people “buy into what you believe in.” Most telling is the preacher Mikaele Mudreilagi, whose vision in the desert propelled him to activism. When pressed, his conviction crumbles into a hesitant “if” and a “possibility,” a far cry from the certainty he preached to his followers. These leaders are not true believers; they are entrepreneurs of faith, packaging a palatable prophecy to consolidate power, win elections, and gain relevance.

    This internal manipulation is compounded and encouraged by external actors who recognize the strategic value of these votes on the world stage. Organizations like the International Christian Embassy Jerusalem (ICEJ) actively cultivate and celebrate this support. Their president’s praise for the Fijian branch’s “amazing impact” reveals a clear understanding that these Pasifika nations are a diplomatic lifeline. In forums like the United Nations and the International Court of Justice, where Israel faces near-total isolation, the votes of Fiji, Nauru, and Papua New Guinea are priceless. The establishment of the so-called Indigenous Embassy in Jerusalem is a masterstroke of propaganda, weaponizing the concept of indigeneity, to shield the Israeli government from accusations of settler colonialism. By presenting Pasifika Islanders as “indigenous advocates” for Israel, it creates a moral equivalence that is both historically inaccurate and ethically grotesque, effectively using the descendants of one colonized people to launder the reputation of a modern occupying power.

    This brings us to the most troubling aspect of this alliance: the profound and willful moral disconnect it requires. The fundamentalist Christianity that underpins this support is highly selective. It cherry-picks the Old Testament—the covenants with Abraham, the glory of King Solomon’s Ophir—while systematically ignoring the unsavory bits: the genocidal commands, the prophetic calls for justice, and the entirety of Christ’s teachings in the New Testament centered on mercy, peacemaking, and love for one’s enemy. This faith has been utterly brainwashed, into aligning with a Western, conservative political project that values nationalist expansion over universal human dignity.

    The brutal reality in Gaza is the ultimate test of this cherry-picked faith. As Israel’s military campaign, under the leadership of Benjamin Netanyahu, has unleashed a horrifying scale of destruction—leveling entire neighborhoods, killing tens of thousands of civilians, and creating a man-made famine—the response from these Pasifika champions has been to double down. They frame it solely as a war of good against evil, of Israel against Hamas, refusing to engage with the disproportionate and collective punishment being meted out upon a largely helpless population. To stand with Israel is one thing; to offer unqualified support for a campaign the International Court of Justice has found to be “plausibly” genocidal is another entirely. Their “missile prayers” are not for the ceasing of violence or the protection of all innocent life but for the victory of one side, blind to the mountains of corpses being created in their name.

    The great tragedy is that this position betrays the very indigenous and spiritual values these nations claim to hold. Pasifika cultures are traditionally built on community, reciprocity, and a deep connection to the land. To see leaders like Gavoka and Mudreilagi use their influence to endorse the dispossession and slaughter of another people connected to their land is a bitter irony. The compassionate wisdom of their own cultures, which should inspire calls for reconciliation and ceasefire, is drowned out by the drumbeat of apocalyptic zeal and realpolitik. They pray for a time when “the two flags unite,” as Kaua did, while their government’s actions on the world stage empower the very forces making that dream impossible.

    In the end, the story of the Pasifika’s support for Israel is a cautionary tale about the power of story and the danger of faith divorced from critical ethics. The Lost Tribes myth provided a beautiful dream of belonging and purpose. But in the hands of cynical leaders and foreign interest groups, it has been weaponized into a narrative that justifies overlooking a horrific reality. It is a testament to the fact that the most potent myths are not those that are true, but those that we desperately want to believe—even if that belief requires closing our eyes to a genocide and abdicating our shared responsibility for our fellow human beings.

  • Fiji’s Constitutional Crossroads: A Hammer in Search of New Tools – The Paradox of Change in a Land of Coups

    The ancient adage that “when all you have is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail” finds unsettling resonance in Fiji’s turbulent political history. For decades, Fijian politics has been dominated by the hammer of authoritarian imposition and military force, with constitutions abrogated and rewritten to serve the interests of those in power. The 2013 Constitution, crafted by the Bainimarama/Khaiyum regime with “no extensive public consultation process” and “imposed by decree after an unlawful coup,” represented the ultimate expression of this hammer-and-nail governance . Today, Fiji stands at a historic juncture—the Supreme Court recently, effectively reshaped this flawed document, declaring its amendment provisions “virtually unamendable” and reducing the impossible threshold for change to a more democratic process . The pressing question that now confronts Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka’s coalition government, is whether they will continue reaching for familiar hammers or finally embrace a more diverse toolkit for nation-building.

    The Burden of History and the Democratic Deficit

    Fiji’s constitutional journey has been anything but smooth. Since independence in 1970, the nation has had four constitutions, with all but the current one abrogated following military interventions. The 2013 Constitution emerged from what the Supreme Court frankly acknowledged as an undemocratic process—drafted by a small group of officials over a very short period, lacking legitimate public participation, and imposed from above rather than growing from the collective will of the Fijian people. This origin created what the Court termed a “democratic deficit”, a fundamental illegitimacy that has haunted the document despite three elections conducted under its provisions.

    The Constitution’s amendment procedures were deliberately designed to be virtually unchangeable, requiring a 75% parliamentary majority plus the same supermajority in a referendum—a threshold so prohibitively high, that it effectively rendered the people powerless to alter their fundamental law. This rigidity reflected the hammer mentality of its authors: having fashioned the constitution to serve their interests, they ensured it would remain immune to democratic modification. The coalition government’s challenge to these provisions represented not merely a technical legal maneuver but a fundamental confrontation with Fiji’s authoritarian legacy.

    The Courts Intervention: Providing New Tools

    The Supreme Court’s landmark opinion offers a potential breakthrough in this democratic impasse. In a remarkable exercise of judicial power, the Court remedially interpreted the amendment provisions, lowering the threshold to a two-thirds parliamentary majority plus a simple majority of voters in a referendum. This decision reflects profound judicial wisdom—it neither capitulates to government demands for simple majority amendment nor preserves the existing impossibility of change. Instead, it charts a middle path that makes amendment feasible while still requiring broad consensus.

    The Court’s reasoning deserves particular attention. Rather than engaging in pure textual interpretation, the justices adopted a contextual approach that considered Fiji’s complex political history and the democratic values underlying constitutional governance. They emphasized that the spirit of the Constitution—promoting “a democratic society based on human dignity, equality and freedom”—must take precedence over rigid textual provisions that undermine that very spirit. This approach recognizes that constitutionalism cannot be reduced to a mere hammer of control but must serve as a diverse toolkit for democratic flourishing.

    Table: Comparing Constitutional Amendment Requirements

    DocumentParliamentary Majority RequiredReferendum RequirementPractical Effect
    2013 Constitution (Original)75% of MPs75% of registered votersVirtually unamendable
    Supreme Court Revised Standard66% of MPsSimple majority of votersDifficult but achievable
    Government’s Desired StandardSimple majorityNoneEasily amendable

    Cabinet’s Pathway: Between Vision and Political Reality

    The Supreme Court’s decision presents the coalition government with both extraordinary opportunity and profound responsibility. Cabinet now stands at a crossroads with three potential pathways forward:

    1. The Pathway of Constitutional Reform

    The government can initiate a genuinely inclusive process for constitutional revision, something multiple stakeholders have demanded. National Federation Party Leader Professor Biman Prasad has called for “a full national dialogue on the Constitution” through a “representative constitutional review commission” that would “ensure that all Fijians’ voices are heard and respected” . This approach would require careful statesmanship rather than hammer-force, recognizing that constitutional legitimacy derives from process as much as substance.

    The government must particularly address concerns raised by minority communities, especially Indo-Fijians who fear that lowered amendment thresholds might enable majority tyranny. As Fiji Labour Party Leader Mahendra Chaudhry warned, “The Indian community… feels particularly vulnerable in light of the country’s history of race-based coups and the trampling of their rights” . A visionary cabinet would prioritize protective mechanisms for minority rights that cannot be easily amended, perhaps through special entrenchment provisions or power-sharing arrangements.

    2. The Pathway of Economic Transformation

    Constitutional change cannot occur in a vacuum—it must be accompanied by economic vision. The IMF’s 2025 assessment notes that while Fiji’s economy has recovered from the pandemic with 3.7% growth in 2024, significant challenges remain: public debt at 80% of GDP, infrastructure constraints, vulnerability to natural disasters, and “brain drain” of human capital . The government’s economic toolkit must address these issues through balanced fiscal policies—continuing growth-friendly consolidation while investing in climate resilience and human development.

    The IMF recommends focusing on “enhancing the business environment,” “addressing ageing infrastructure,” and “improving transport network and digital connectivity” . These priorities require technocratic competence rather than political hammering—a recognition that economic prosperity emerges from careful planning and institutional stability rather than grand gestures.

    3. The Pathway of Reconciliation and Justice

    Perhaps the most delicate challenge concerns Fiji’s troubled past. The Supreme Court notably maintained immunity for those behind the 1987 and 2000 coups “in the interests of ‘stability and continuity’”, but this decision remains controversial. Prime Minister Rabuka himself—who orchestrated the 1987 coups—now positions himself as a reconciler, but many question whether true reconciliation can occur without accountability.

    The proposed Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) offers a potential middle path, but its success requires Rabuka’s full participation and transparency. As one analysis notes, “For the TRC to transcend political theatre, Rabuka must pair radical accountability with strategic diplomacy” . This might include testifying with “raw honesty” about his role in the 1987 coups, leading efforts to scrap coup-related immunity provisions, and eventually stepping down to enable generational change . Such actions would represent a decisive break from hammer politics toward a more nuanced toolkit of transitional justice.

    Obstacles to a Visionary Pathway

    Despite these opportunities, formidable obstacles threaten to return Fiji to “politics as usual”:

    • Coalition Management: The ruling coalition comprises three parties with potentially divergent interests. Workshops on Fijian democracy revealed challenges in “the coordination of the 3 governing parties” , suggesting that internal tensions might impede bold action.
    • Ethnic Divisions: Reconciliation of “indigenous iTaukei and Indo-Fijians” remains a central challenge , compounded by the need for “balancing Western law with customary law and indigenous rights and customs” . These divisions require careful navigation rather than heavy-handed solutions.
    • Generational Transition: With over 60% of the population being youth, there is growing impatience with leaders whose careers “began with guns, not ballots” . The government must balance the experience of older leaders with the energy and new perspectives of younger generations.

    Table: Key Challenge Areas for Fiji’s Coalition Government

    Challenge CategorySpecific IssuesRequired Approach
    Political-InstitutionalCoalition coordination, constitutional reform, judicial independenceConsensus-building, inclusive dialogue
    Socio-EthniciTaukei-Indo-Fijian relations, indigenous rights, customary lawPower-sharing, cultural sensitivity
    Economic-DevelopmentalHigh public debt, infrastructure deficits, climate vulnerabilityTechnocratic competence, strategic investment
    IntergenerationalYouth inclusion, leadership transition, digital transformationMentorship programs, political renewal

    Conclusion: Beyond the Hammer Mentality

    Fiji’s Supreme Court has provided what might be the most important judicial decision in the nation’s history—not by imposing another hammer but by offering a diverse set of constitutional tools. The Court has effectively said that the people of Fiji must have meaningful ability to shape their fundamental law, but that changes should reflect broad consensus rather than narrow interests.

    The coalition government now faces its defining test. Will it retreat to the familiar hammers of Fijian politics—authoritarian imposition, ethnic favoritism, and personalistic rule? Or will it embrace a more sophisticated toolkit of inclusive dialogue, careful consensus-building, and visionary planning? The answer will determine whether Fiji remains trapped in its history of coups and constitutions or finally transitions to a stable democratic future.

    The Supreme Court has given Fiji something rare: a second chance at constitutional democracy. How the government uses this opportunity will determine whether the nation becomes a democratic exemplar for the Pasifika or another case study in missed opportunities. The tools are now available; vision and courage are all that’s required to use them wisely.

  • A Call for a Pasifika Formal Dress Code: Reclaiming Our Climate, Culture and Confidence

    For Fiji and the wider Pasifika, the continued adherence to colonial-era formal wear—heavy wool suits, stifling ties, and oppressive judicial robes—is more than a mere sartorial inconvenience; it is a lingering anomaly that demands urgent and conscious re-dress. Our reality is one of sun-drenched islands and humid breezes, a tropical climate that naturally suits lighter, breathable, and culturally resonant garments. Yet, in our halls of power, courtrooms, and corporate offices, we cling to the sartorial legacies of a distant, colder world. This disconnect is not just a matter of physical discomfort but a profound symbolic issue, highlighting a lingering hesitation to fully step into a post-colonial identity that is authentically our own. After more than five decades of independence for many Pasifika nations, it is time to align our professional attire with our environment, our heritage, and our future.

    The irony is palpable. Visitors to our shores are quick to embrace the comfort and vibrancy of island-style clothing, often purchasing bula shirts and sulus as cherished souvenirs. Meanwhile, Fijians and Kai Pasifika in formal roles, often swelter in outdated Western ensembles, a visual metaphor for a persistent cultural dissonance. This is not about rejecting global interconnectedness but about questioning why, in the very heart of our own nations, the uniform of authority and professionalism remains one that is fundamentally foreign and physically unsuitable. The question we must ask is: does maintaining these standards truly elevate our professionalism, or does it subtly reinforce an outdated hierarchy that places external norms above our own?

    This conversation extends far beyond practicality into the crucial realm of symbolic self-determination. Nowhere is this more evident than in our judicial institutions. The sight of judges and lawyers donning horsehair wigs and thick black robes, designed for the courtrooms and climates of 18th-century Britain, feels less like a respected tradition and more like an uncritical homage to a colonial era. If we are serious about the project of decolonizing minds and institutions, then reimagining these powerful symbols is not a frivolous endeavour—it is essential. These vestments are not neutral; they are potent symbols of a system imposed from without. Reforming them would be a powerful declaration that our justice system is of, for, and by the people of the Pasifika, respectful of its past but not bound by it.

    We are not without compelling blueprints for this transition. Nations with similar colonial histories have navigated this path with pragmatism and pride. India, for instance, discarded the impractical wig in the 1960s, recognising its incompatibility with both the climate and the cultural identity of a confident new nation. Kenya followed suit in 2011, abolishing wigs and introducing redesigned judicial robes featuring green and gold accents, the colours of its national flag. Some Kenyan judges even incorporate Maasai-inspired beaded collars into their ceremonial attire. These nations understood that professionalism and dignity are not inextricably linked to European aesthetics. They demonstrated that it is entirely possible to honour the solemnity of an institution, while rooting it in local reality. The question is not can we do this, but why haven’t we?

    Critics of such change often argue that Western formalwear conveys “professionalism” in a globalised world and that deviating from this norm might undermine international perception. This argument, however, confuses uniformity for universality. True professionalism is conveyed through conduct, competence, and respect—not through the cut of one’s jacket. Moreover, this perspective risks implicitly devaluing our own cultural expressions. The vibrant, well-tailored bula shirt, the dignified sulu vakataga, and the elegant jaba are not casual wear; they are garments of immense pride, heritage, and inherent dignity. By redefining our standards of formality to include these items, we do not lower our standards—we affirm that our identity holds equal value in spaces of power. We declare that a Kai Pasifika, can be taken seriously while dressed as a Kai Pasifika.

    The benefits of such a shift are multifaceted. On a practical level, shedding stifling attire would undoubtedly enhance comfort, productivity, and well-being in our oppressive heat. On an economic level, it would empower local designers, tailors, and textile artisans, fostering an industry centred on Pasifika identity rather than importing foreign suits. Culturally, it would be an act of empowerment, especially for the younger generation, to see their leaders and professionals adorned in garments that reflect a confident, modern Pasifika identity.

    The path forward is not one of wholesale rejection, but of thoughtful curation and creative innovation. It requires a national and regional conversation led by cultural stakeholders, designers, climate experts, and professionals from various sectors. The goal is not to impose a rigid, state-mandated uniform—as past attempts with the kala vata (colour-coding) have shown—but to develop organic, widely embraced guidelines, that celebrate our unique position in the world. Imagine a Fijian barrister in a tailored, open-neck sulu vakataga and a black jacket trimmed with traditional masi motifs. Imagine a regional diplomat in a sleek, modernised sulu and a Nehru-style jacket made from breathable local linen. The possibilities are as rich and diverse as our cultures.

    For Fiji and the Pasifika to fully step into our post-colonial future, we must dare to dress the part. It is time to consciously curate our professional identity, retaining what serves us and courageously redesigning what does not. Let us build institutions and a society where the dress code is not a relic of a bygone empire, but a reflection of our own sun-kissed, ocean-bound, and culturally vibrant reality. Let’s not just participate in the world; let’s enter it on our own terms, clothed in the confidence of who we are.

  • A Bulldozer in Disguise – Rabuka’s Haste Betrays the Court’s Consensus

    An Op-Ed in Saturday 6 September’s Fiji Times

    Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka’s confirmation that a draft Bill to amend the 2013 Constitution is ready for tabling — and that he already has the parliamentary numbers to pass it — should be a moment of democratic triumph. Instead, it feels like a sobering reminder that old political habits die hard. While the Supreme Court’s landmark ruling offered Fiji a rare opportunity to break from its history of top-down constitutional impositions, the government’s hurried approach threatens to reduce this profound judicial guidance to little more than a numbers game in Parliament. What was meant to be a pathway to national consensus risks becoming a political bulldozer in disguise.

    THERE is no denying the significance of the Supreme Court’s opinion. By declaring the previous amendment thresholds — requiring three-quarters of all MPs and three-quarters of registered voters, including non-voters — “unworkable” and reflective of a “democratic deficit,” the court did more than adjust legal technicalities. It repudiated the very philosophy of the 2013 Constitution: That fundamental law could be imposed on the people rather than shaped by them. In their place, the court instituted a new framework: Amendments must now be supported by two-thirds of Parliament and a simple majority in a referendum. This was designed not just to make change possible, but to make it legitimate — rooted in deliberation and popular consent.

    Yet, the Prime Minister’s announcement suggests a preoccupation with the arithmetic of change rather than the spirit of change. Boasting that “I know I have the numbers” and emphasizing parliamentary tactics over participatory process, echoes the very style of politics the Supreme Court’s ruling sought to transcend. It is true that the government’s previous attempt in March, which received 40 votes, would have passed under the new two-thirds threshold (requiring 37 votes). But reducing this profound constitutional moment to a question of vote-counting misses the point entirely. The court’s judgment was an invitation to nation-building, not a green light for political deal-making.

    The government’s approach — fast-tracking a draft Bill through Cabinet and Parliament with what a friend termed “indecent haste”— risks creating a constitutional amendment, that is legal, but not legitimate. The Supreme Court provided a dual requirement: Parliamentary supermajority and a referendum. This two-step process was clearly intended to ensure that amendments are not only negotiated among political elites, but also explained, debated, and ultimately endorsed by the people. By rushing the parliamentary process, the government threatens to treat the referendum as a mere formality — a rubber stamp on a deal already struck in the corridors of power. This would repeat the very “democratic deficit” the court condemned.

    A meaningful process would look very different. It would embrace the court’s ruling as a mandate to foster genuine dialogue across all sectors of society. Before tabling any Bill, the government should initiate an inclusive, transparent, and unhurried national conversation — facilitated by the promised Constitution Review Committee and parliamentary committees — about what changes are needed and why. This is not about delaying justice, but about ensuring that changes are deeply understood and broadly owned by the citizens, who must live under them. A referendum should be the culmination of a educated national debate, not a leap of faith demanded of an uninformed electorate. For the ordinary Fijian, this is not a matter of political point-scoring, but of democratic principle. We have lived through constitutions crafted in secrecy and imposed by decree. We have seen how legalistic compliance without genuine buy-in leads to instability and resentment. The Supreme Court has offered us a way out of this cycle — a chance to replace imposition with conversation, and diktat with consensus. It would be a tragic irony if the government used the court’s ruling to validate a process that remains, in spirit, profoundly at odds with the democratic renewal the judiciary envisioned.

    The Prime Minister is correct about one thing: this is about keeping promises to the people of Fiji. But the most important promise — bigger than any particular amendment — is the promise of a democracy that is truly by and for the people. That means respecting not just the letter of the court’s ruling, but its essence: That lasting change must be built together, with patience, transparency, and respect for the voices of all. The Supreme Court has given us a pathway. It is up to our leaders — and to us — to walk it with integrity, not run through it with haste.

  • Sky-High Barriers: The Crushing Cost of Connection in Fiji

    Beneath the postcard perfection of Fiji’s emerald islands and azure waters, a quiet crisis unfolds in the skies above. For ordinary Fijians, the simple act of moving between islands has become a financial burden that tests the limits of possibility. Domestic airfares have soared beyond reach, transforming what should be a basic necessity into a luxury that divides communities and separates families.

    Fiji Airways Group chairman Nalin Patel, offers polished explanations—varied airport infrastructures requiring different aircraft, runway limitations reducing passenger capacity, the inability to conduct night flights. He speaks of operational complexities and efficiency challenges, all while the airline reports record-breaking profits. Meanwhile, a pilot from another Pasifika island watches from afar, and calls these excuses lame, noting that they fly longer routes for far less. The truth becomes clear: this is not merely about operational necessity, but about prioritization.

    What does it mean when Fijians cannot afford to traverse their own islands? When a mother must choose between feeding her family and visiting an ailing parent on another island? When a student declines educational opportunity because the flight to school can often cost close to the tuition itself?

    We have created a system where geography determines destiny, where the accident of which island you’re born on may dictate the opportunities available to you. The very wings that should connect our scattered islands instead reinforce their separation. The airplane, that marvel of modern connection, has become an instrument of division.

    The human costs are measured in missed funerals, unattended graduations, postponed medical consultations, and silent dinner tables, where absent family members are profoundly present in their absence. We are sacrificing our social fabric on the altar of operational efficiency and profit margins.

    There is a particular cruelty in the booking system that reserves flexibility for those who can pay premium fares, while the budget-conscious must plan months in advance for the privilege of affordability. Since when did spontaneity become a luxury? Since when did urgency become a premium feature?

    Fiji Airways speaks of challenges while posting profits. They describe infrastructure limitations while enjoying virtual monopoly power. They explain runway restrictions while managing the very airports that create these restrictions. This is not merely business—it is a fundamental failure of a nation’s duty to its people.

    The skies belong to all Fijians, not just those who can afford to traverse them. The right to movement, to connection, to family—these are not privileges to be purchased but essential elements of human dignity. When we allow economic barriers to rise higher than the clouds themselves, we have failed in our most basic responsibility to one another.

    Perhaps the question is not whether we can afford to lower fares, but whether we can afford not to. The true cost is measured not in dollars but in broken connections, abandoned opportunities, and the silent suffering of those who watch from the ground as the airplanes pass overhead, carrying only those who can afford the price of belonging.

    One day, we will look back at this era of exclusion and wonder how we allowed the skies to become yet another frontier of inequality. By then, the damage will be done—the relationships frayed, the opportunities lost, the communities divided. The time for change is not when the studies are completed or the profits secured, but now, while there are still connections left to save.

    The heavens should unite us, not divide us. Until we remember this truth, we are all ground-bound, regardless of where we live.

  • Hello World!

    Welcome to WordPress! This is your first post. Edit or delete it to take the first step in your blogging journey.

    Bula vinaka and greetings to anyone reading this. Over the last couple of months, a number of friends have been encouraging me to start ‘my own blog’ but only in the last 24 hours have I started exploring the possibility seriously and this has led to this: my own blog. It will take time for me to navigate myself through what this actually means but hey, one can only get better by navigating the intricacies of what a blog actually means, right? So do bears with me. For at this point, I do not even know how to invite folks to this blog to actually read, what I plan to share in here!

    So this new journey begins now and I hope to share here, essays, articles, reflections and whatever hits my fancy for anyone that may read it. I hope it will educate, inform, teach and provide information that folks may be searching for and help soothe as well.

    I will post issues that come to mind, including personal reflections and, I hope you will all note that these are personal to me. So you may not see it from my point of view, but that is alright. To agree on everything is to make our lives blend and boring.

    I am a voracious global news reader; part of what I have been for the last 20 years or so and from my traveled experiences, I hope that my sharing will be helpful to readers. With that said, I welcome you to my blog and happy readings of my Pasifika talanoa sessions!

  • Who Really Keeps Fiji Afloat? Remittances, Revenue Leakage, and Institutional Accountability in Fiji’s Economy

    1 Introduction: The Duality of Fiji’s Financial Flows

    Fiji’s economy presents a stark paradox—on one hand, it benefits from record-breaking remittances sent by its diaspora, predominantly Indigenous Fijians working abroad, while on the other hand, it faces persistent allegations of significant revenue leakage through corporate channels. This analysis examines whether Fiji’s regulatory institutions—the Fiji Revenue & Customs Service (FRCS) and Reserve Bank of Fiji (RBF)—are effectively combating the outflow of much-needed funds, through transfer pricing, profit repatriation, and other financial mechanisms. The urgency of this inquiry cannot be overstated: with remittances reaching FJD 1.25 billion in 2023 (a 20.4% increase from the previous year) and projected to reach FJD 1.4 billion in 2025, these inflows represent nearly 10% of Fiji’s GDP and serve as a critical economic lifeline . Yet concerns persist that a substantial portion of corporate profits—particularly from our retail giants and foreign-owned businesses—may be systematically diverted overseas through legal and extra-legal means, potentially undermining domestic revenue collection and economic resilience.

    The question posed by Facebook commentator Tom CID, strikes at the heart of this dilemma: Are those with true Fijian allegiance—the diaspora sending remittances—effectively subsidizing an economic system that permits others to export profits without proportional contribution to the nation’s development? This post investigates this pressing question through a meticulous analysis of available data, regulatory frameworks, and economic patterns, offering both assessment and actionable recommendations for strengthening Fiji’s financial sovereignty.

    2 The Remittance Lifeline: Diaspora Contributions to National Survival

    2.1 Scale and Significance of Remittance Flows

    Remittances have emerged as one of the most stable sources of foreign exchange for Fiji, demonstrating remarkable resilience, even during global economic downturns. According to recent data, personal remittances soared to a record high of FJD 1.25 billion (approximately USD 554 million) in 2023, marking a dramatic 20.4% increase over the previous year . This growth trajectory has continued into 2025, with inward remittances reaching FJD 448.5 million in just the first four months of the year . When compared to other traditional economic sectors, remittances now rival tourism—which generated approximately FJD 2 billion in 2019—as a source of foreign exchange .

    The importance of these flows extends far beyond macroeconomic indicators; remittances serve as a critical social safety net for countless Fijian households. As noted in the WFP Pacific Market Monitoring Bulletin, 53% of Fijian households considered high food prices a top concern in 2023, with this figure rising to 70% in provinces like Rotuma, Ra, Macuata, and Bua . In this context of economic pressure, remittances have played a “crucial role in boosting domestic consumption and assisting low and middle-income households during the post-COVID-19 recovery phase,” as observed by Westpac Senior Economist Shamal Chand .

    2.2 Drivers and Channels of Remittance Growth

    Several key factors have driven the remarkable growth in remittances:

    · Labor Mobility Schemes: Participation in the Pacific Labour Mobility Scheme (PALM) and Recognised Seasonal Employer (RSE) scheme has provided structured pathways for Fijians to work abroad and send money home .
    · Digital Transformation: The adoption of mobile digital wallets has revolutionized remittance transfers, making them faster, cheaper, and more accessible. By 2023, 38% of remittance inflows were received through mobile digital wallets, a dramatic increase from just 1.2% in 2016 .
    · Diaspora Solidarity: The consistent growth in remittances—even during global economic challenges—suggests a strong commitment from the Fijian diaspora to support families and communities back home.

    3 The Suspected Hemorrhage: Transfer Pricing and Profit Repatriation

    3.1 Mechanisms of Revenue Leakage

    While remittances flow into Fiji, other financial currents appear to be moving in the opposite direction. Concerns about revenue leakage through various corporate practices have persisted for decades, with particular suspicion directed toward foreign-owned businesses and large retail chains. The primary mechanisms suspected of facilitating these outflows include:

    · Transfer Pricing: Multinational enterprises may manipulate prices charged between related entities in different countries to shift profits to lower-tax jurisdictions. FRCS regulations specifically require that “controlled transactions” must be “consistent with the arm’s length principle,” indicating awareness of this risk .
    · Profit Repatriation: Foreign-owned companies may legally transfer profits earned in Fiji to parent companies abroad through dividends, royalty payments, and service fees. While legitimate, the scale of these outflows may exceed reasonable returns on investment.
    · Import-Related Leakages: Fiji’s merchandise trade deficit widened by 4.5% year-on-year to FJD 693.0 million cumulative to February 2025, driven by a $114.1 million increase in imports to $1,135.9 million . While many imports are necessary for Fiji’s economy and tourism sector, critics question whether some represent preferential sourcing from related overseas entities rather than competitive market choices.

    3.2 The Tourism Sector Case Study

    The tourism industry—often described as “the backbone of the economy which was once sugar”—provides an illuminating case study of the leakage debate . Critics argue that tourism profits are “siphoned off by large, foreign-owned companies, and that only a small fraction of the money spent by tourists actually stays in the local economy” . However, industry representatives counter that 75% of hotels and resorts are locally owned (primarily by the worker-supported Fiji National Provident Fund) and that over 90% of tourism businesses in marine and land transportation, activities, experiences, tours, and supply chains are locally owned .

    Despite these ownership patterns, import requirements create inevitable outflows. As the Fiji Hotel and Tourism Association notes: “Fiji is a small Pacific Island that must import almost everything,” including “fuel, construction material, basic food items (flour, rice, oil, canned food, frozen goods) and includes the raw materials that are required for many industries” . The critical policy question is whether current regulatory frameworks adequately distinguish between necessary imports and those that facilitate inappropriate profit shifting.

    4 Institutional Framework: Assessing FRCS and RBF Capabilities

    4.1 Regulatory Provisions and Enforcement Challenges

    The FRCS possesses formal authority to address transfer pricing and profit shifting through the Income Tax (Transfer Pricing) Regulations 2012. Regulation 9 explicitly requires that businesses engaging in cross-border transactions with related overseas companies must “record, in writing, sufficient information and analysis to verify that its controlled transactions are consistent with the arm’s length principle” . The documentation must be in place prior to the due date for filing the income tax return for that year, with severe penalties for non-compliance—a fine of not less than $100,000 .

    However, several implementation challenges potentially undermine these regulatory provisions:

    · Resource Asymmetry: The FRCS likely faces significant resource and expertise disadvantages compared to the sophisticated accounting and legal teams employed by multinational corporations.
    · Information Limitations: Despite documentation requirements, FRCS may lack the detailed industry benchmarking data needed to effectively challenge transfer pricing arrangements.
    · Limited Transparency: The absence of public disclosure regarding corporate tax payments and profit repatriation makes external scrutiny difficult. As observed in the original query, “FRCS collection data is published in aggregate, but disaggregated details on large corporate taxpayers are absent.”

    4.2 Reserve Bank of Fiji’s Role in Monitoring Flows

    The RBF plays a complementary role in monitoring cross-border financial flows. Its May Economic Review provided detailed figures on remittance inflows and outflows, demonstrating at least basic tracking capabilities . The Bank noted that outward remittances totalled $174.2 million in the first four months of 2025, growing by 13.3% “mainly from outflows by emigrants and non-residents to meet commitments in their home country” .

    However, the RBF’s public reporting does not distinguish between different categories of outflows—such as remittances by individuals versus profit repatriation by corporations—making it difficult to assess the scale of potentially problematic transfers. More granular disclosure would enhance public understanding and scrutiny of these patterns.

    Table: Key Institutions Governing Cross-Border Financial Flows in Fiji

    Institution Formal Authority Public Reporting Practices Identified Limitations
    Fiji Revenue & Customs Service (FRCS) Enforcement of Transfer Pricing Regulations; Tax collection Aggregate data publication; Limited corporate disclosure Resource constraints; Limited transparency on corporate taxes
    Reserve Bank of Fiji (RBF) Monitoring cross-border financial flows; Economic reporting Reports remittance inflows/outflows; Trade deficit data Limited categorization of outflows; No distinction between individual and corporate transfers
    Fiji Bureau of Statistics Data collection and dissemination Periodic economic reports Dependency on other agencies for source data

    5 The Way Forward: Policy Recommendations for Enhanced Financial Integrity

    5.1 Strengthening Transparency and Accountability

    · Disaggregated Corporate Tax Disclosure: FRCS should adopt a policy of publicly disclosing aggregated tax payments for large corporations (with appropriate commercial confidentiality safeguards), following models implemented in countries like Australia and the United Kingdom. This would enable civil society and researchers to identify potential anomalies without compromising legitimate business secrets.
    · Beneficial Ownership Registry: Establishing a publicly accessible beneficial ownership registry for companies operating in Fiji would help identify structures specifically designed to obscure profit repatriation and transfer pricing arrangements.
    · Parliamentary Oversight Mechanisms: Fiji’s Parliament should establish a dedicated committee with forensic audit capabilities specifically tasked with reviewing cross-border financial flows and corporate tax practices. This committee should have authority to summon corporate representatives and access relevant documentation.

    5.2 Enhancing Technical Capacity and International Cooperation

    · Specialized Transfer Pricing Unit: FRCS should establish a dedicated transfer pricing unit with specialized training in international tax law, accounting, and economic analysis. This unit should develop industry-specific benchmark studies to better identify aberrant pricing arrangements.
    · Regional Information Sharing: Fiji should initiate regional cooperation agreements for tax information sharing and joint audit programs, potentially through Pacific Island Forum mechanisms. Collective action would enhance leverage against sophisticated multinational tax avoidance strategies.
    · Diaspora Engagement Policy: Given the demonstrated importance of remittances, the Fijian government should develop a comprehensive diaspora engagement strategy that reduces transaction costs, enhances financial inclusion, and formally recognizes the contributions of overseas Fijians to national development.

    6 Conclusion: Balancing the Ledger

    The evidence confirms that Indigenous Fijians and other citizens working abroad are indeed providing a crucial economic lifeline through remittances that now approach 10% of GDP . These flows have “played a crucial role in boosting domestic consumption and assisting low and middle-income households during the post-COVID-19 recovery phase” . Without these contributions, Fiji’s economic situation would be considerably more precarious, particularly for vulnerable households facing rising food prices and economic uncertainty .

    At the same time, legitimate questions persist about whether current regulatory frameworks—administered by FRCS and RBF—are sufficient to prevent inappropriate revenue leakage through transfer pricing, profit repatriation, and related mechanisms. While both institutions possess formal authority to address these challenges, resource constraints, transparency limitations, and information asymmetries likely undermine their effectiveness.

    The path forward requires strengthened regulatory frameworks, enhanced transparency, and greater public accountability for both corporations and government institutions. Fiji must also formally recognize and enhance the contributions of its diaspora, whose remittances provide not just individual household support but a critical foundation for national economic stability.

    In the final analysis, the question is not whether Indigenous Fijians are “propping up” the economy—the evidence clearly demonstrates their indispensable contribution—but whether Fiji’s institutions are adequately serving all citizens by ensuring that those who profit from the Fijian economy contribute their fair share to the nation’s development. Closing the gap between these two realities represents one of the most important economic governance challenges facing Fiji today.