Tag: democracy

• 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.

  2025.09.15

• 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

  Document	Parliamentary Majority Required	Referendum Requirement	Practical Effect
  2013 Constitution (Original)	75% of MPs	75% of registered voters	Virtually unamendable
  Supreme Court Revised Standard	66% of MPs	Simple majority of voters	Difficult but achievable
  Government’s Desired Standard	Simple majority	None	Easily 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 Category	Specific Issues	Required Approach
  Political-Institutional	Coalition coordination, constitutional reform, judicial independence	Consensus-building, inclusive dialogue
  Socio-Ethnic	iTaukei-Indo-Fijian relations, indigenous rights, customary law	Power-sharing, cultural sensitivity
  Economic-Developmental	High public debt, infrastructure deficits, climate vulnerability	Technocratic competence, strategic investment
  Intergenerational	Youth inclusion, leadership transition, digital transformation	Mentorship 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.

  2025.09.10

• 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.

  2025.09.10