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Tag: pasifika

  • The Entangling Alliances: Why Fiji Must Not Tie Its Security to Any Single Mast

    The news from Port Moresby should echo across the Viti Levu not as a model to emulate, but as a cautionary tale. Papua New Guinea’s approval of a new defense treaty with Australia, is the latest move in the Pasifika’s Great Game, a strategic gambit where larger powers vie for influence, using smaller nations as pieces on their geopolitical board. For Fiji, a nation that has painstakingly carved out a role as a regional leader and a master of “multi-alignment,” this path is a dangerous anachronism. To tie our security—and thus, our sovereignty—to any single power would be to betray our hard-won independence and our unique potential as a unifier in a divided region.

    The seductive allure of a security guarantee is understandable. It promises protection, resources, and a place at the table of a powerful friend. But this is a fool’s bargain. As we have learned through our own history and our deft navigation of international relations, security is not a gift to be received; it is a condition to be built. And true, lasting security cannot be imported from Canberra, Washington, or Beijing. It is homegrown, cultivated in the fertile soil of economic resilience, social cohesion, and climate stability.

    The Deft Art of Multi-Alignment vs. The Blunt Tool of Alliance

    Fiji’s strategic genuinity: engaging with all, but being beholden to none. We work with China on infrastructure, with Australia and Aotearoa on policing and military training, and with a multitude of partners on development. This is not indecision; it is supreme strategic agency. It allows us to extract benefits while retaining the ultimate power—the power to say “no,” to set our own terms, and to pivot based on our national interest, not the interests of a patron.

    An exclusive security treaty shatters this delicate balance. It effectively makes us a client state, aligning our national destiny with the strategic objectives of another. When that power enters a conflict or a period of heightened tension—as is inevitable in today’s world—we are no longer a neutral voice for peace. We become a forward base, a target, or at best, a compliant ally expected to fall in line. We trade our role as a sovereign player for that of a supporting actor in someone else’s drama.

    Our Real Battlefield is Not the Sea, But the Soil

    The greatest threats to Fijian security do not sail warships or fly fighter jets. They rise with the seas, blow in with intensifying cyclones, and fester in the persistent inequalities of our communities. Our national security is inextricably linked to human security.

    · Poverty is a national security issue. A population struggling to meet basic needs is vulnerable to exploitation, political instability, and crime.

    · Climate change is the single greatest existential threat. It erodes our coastlines, destroys our crops, salinates our water, and displaces our people. No defense pact with a foreign military can fortify a village against a king tide.

    · Economic vulnerability makes us susceptible to debt-traps and predatory investment, which can be just as corrosive to our sovereignty as any military threat.

    These are the battles that demand our full attention and resources. A defense treaty would inevitably skew our priorities, diverting political focus, financial capital, and institutional energy towards military posturing and away from the foundational work of poverty alleviation, climate adaptation, and sustainable development.

    A Call for Principled, Inclusive Partnership

    This is not a call for isolationism. It is a call for a more profound and principled form of engagement. Fiji’s foreign policy should be a magnet, drawing the world to our shared challenges, not a chain tethering us to one power’s agenda.

    We must lead the charge in reframing the conversation. Let us invite Australia, Aotearoa, the US, China, India, and the EU to a different kind of partnership—not a “security alliance” against a common enemy, but a “prosperity and resilience coalition” for a common future. Let the agenda be:

    1. Co-investment in Climate-Resilient Infrastructure.

    2. Collaborative Projects for Poverty Alleviation and Sustainable Agriculture.

    3. Strengthening Regional Institutions like the Pasifika Islands Forum to be the primary arbiters of Pasifika security.

    In this vision, Fiji is not a prize to be won in a geopolitical contest, but the architect of a new Pasifika century. We become the hub that connects disparate powers around a common, constructive purpose.

    The world is dividing into new blocs, and the pressure to choose a side will only intensify. Fiji’s greatest strength lies in its refusal to be rushed. Our security does not lie in hitching our drua to a foreign warship, but in ensuring our own vessel is seaworthy, our navigators and crew skilled, and our course set firmly towards the horizon of our own choosing—a future where everyone is lifted together, not where anyone is tied down alone.

  • The Bitter Truth: It’s Time for Fiji to Let Go of its Sugar Daddy and Embrace a Real Future

    For over 160 years, the sugar industry has been more than just an economic activity in Fiji; it has been a national identity, a political football, and a colonial ghost that refuses to leave. But the question we must now courageously ask is this: Are we preserving a vital national asset, or are we clinging to a monument of historical injustice that is haemorrhaging money and holding the nation back?

    The case for the prosecution is damning. The industry is a relic of a colonial paternalistic system designed to keep iTaukei in their villages while their land was used to generate wealth for others. Today, it is economically unviable. We cannot compete with the giants of Brazil, Australia, and India. The government subsidises it to the tune of millions annually to sustain an ever-shrinking number of farmers and workers in what can only be described as indentured servitude to a dying trade.

    The opportunity cost is staggering. While FSC buys sugar at F$100 per tonne, commodities like kava command up to $120,000 per tonne. Our land, cursed by generations of chemical runoff, could be nurturing high-value, sustainable crops. Instead, we pour good money after bad, perpetuating a cycle of poverty for the very iTaukei landowners who should be the primary beneficiaries of their own vanua.

    So, why does it persist? The answer is the political elephant in the room. It is a failure of courage that mirrors a broader paralysis in our governance.

    This same lack of strategic bravery is painfully evident in our approach to the digital future. The government proudly touts a National Digital Strategy, 5G networks, and a Google Data Centre. Yet, these achievements risk being a veneer of progress. After nearly three years, the government has been unable to cancel an exorbitant contract with a foreign IT company that effectively holds our country’s critical data hostage. We have, as noted, lost our data sovereignty—a modern-day echo of the economic sovereignty we surrendered in the sugar industry.

    This failure has real consequences. While we host IT conferences that are “barely disguised vendor exhibitions,” our municipal councils remain stuck in the past, crippled by political indecision on local government reform. How can we talk about a FinTech Hub when we cannot digitise basic local services? Our budding BPO industry in Valelevu, a potential source of jobs, is already at risk of being decimated by AI, a threat we are simply not ready for. We are trying to build a skyscraper on a foundation of sand.

    But if not sugar, then what? This is where our vision must expand beyond replacing one crop with another, and confront our technological inertia head-on.

    Yes, agricultural diversification is a critical first step. We must empower landowners to transition to high-margin products. However, the most profound transformation lies not solely in the soil, but in the mind. With AI reshaping the global economy, our goal cannot be to create only a new generation of farmers, but to create a generation of innovators.

    Our investment must be a courageous, dual-track mission:

    1. Agricultural Justice: A managed, just transition out of sugar. This means direct investment in landowners and retraining for farmers, not as a handout, but as a capital injection for a new beginning, breaking the colonial cycle for good.
    2. Digital Sovereignty: A concurrent, ruthless prioritisation of genuine digital governance. This starts with reclaiming control of our national data and infrastructure. It means moving beyond glossy strategies to implementing practical IT systems that improve lives, and—critically—launching a national upskilling program focused on AI literacy. We must prepare our youth not to be displaced by AI, but to harness it.

    Saving the sugar industry is an act of confinement. Similarly, clinging to outdated IT contracts and superficial digital projects is a betrayal of our future potential. It chains us to past weaknesses.

    The choice is clear: we can continue to be custodians of a dying, 160-year-old legacy and a shaky digital facade, or we can become the architects of a new Fiji. One that honours its people by finally giving them the tools—both agricultural and digital—to thrive in the 21st century. The political courage to break these twin cycles of dependency will define our nation for generations to come. It is time to stop feeding the elephants in the room and start building for the future.

  • The Crisis of Christian Conscience

    The images from Gaza haunt the conscience of humanity: endless columns of desperate families fleeing under bombardment, children sleeping in rubble, parents starving themselves to feed their offspring, and the constant, grinding terror of displacement after displacement. According to recent UN reports, over 250,000 people have been displaced from Gaza City in just the past month alone, adding to the nearly two million already displaced throughout the territory. As I write these words, countless Palestinian families—including an estimated 1,000 Palestinian Christians—are being forced from homes that have become uninhabitable ruins, joining what the International Displacement Monitoring Centre identifies as one of the largest displacement crises in the world today.

    From a Christian perspective, this catastrophic human suffering demands more than political analysis; it requires theological and moral reflection rooted in our deepest convictions about human dignity, divine compassion, and justice. How might Jesus of Nazareth—the Palestinian Jew who knew the trauma of displacement as a refugee in Egypt—view what is happening in Gaza today? What does the forced displacement of an entire population reveal about the state of Christian witness in the world? This question beckons us beyond simplistic binaries and comfortable religious nationalism into the uncomfortable territory where faith meets solidarity with the crucified peoples of our time.

    Biblical Landscapes of Displacement

    The narrative of forced displacement is tragically familiar within Scripture. The Hebrew Bible tells countless stories of exile and displacement—from Adam and Eve expelled from Eden to the Israelites dragged into Babylonian captivity. God’s people knew the anguish of being driven from their land, the terror of living under occupation, and the bitter tears of displacement. The Psalmist captures this trauma vividly: “By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion” (Psalm 137:1).

    These stories were not mere historical artifacts to Jesus; they formed the spiritual imagination of his Jewish identity. When Matthew’s Gospel tells us Joseph fled to Egypt with Mary and the infant Jesus to escape Herod’s slaughter of innocents, it places God himself in the position of a displaced person. The Incarnation thus includes the experience of forced migration—God becomes a refugee, sanctifying the experience of those who flee violence today. This theological truth should fundamentally shape how Christians view Gaza’s displaced millions: in their faces, we encounter Christ himself, who identified with the displaced and marginalized so completely that he said, “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40).

    How Would Jesus View Gaza’s Displacement?

    Based on the gospel accounts, Jesus would likely respond to Gaza’s suffering with three distinct postures:

    1. Radical Identification with the Suffering

    Jesus consistently demonstrated what Palestinian theologian Munther Isaac calls “Christ in the rubble”—the Christ who identifies not with powerful rulers but with victims buried under the debris of violence. In Gaza today, Christ is present in the child buried under concrete, the mother mourning her family, the father searching for bread. Jesus’ ministry was characterized by this intentional solidarity with those on the margins: the sick, the impoverished, the ritually unclean, the occupation-weary residents of Galilee. His compassion (literally “suffering with”) was not abstract pity but gut-wrenching identification . As Graham Joseph Hill writes, “The cross holds no nation; it holds brokenness, and it holds both Israelis and Palestinians”.

    2. Unflinching Truth-Telling

    Jesus would undoubtedly name the realities in Gaza with prophetic clarity. He would condemn Hamas’ horrific attacks on October 7th that killed approximately 1,200 Israelis and took hundreds hostage. But he would also condemn the disproportionate response that has left over 65,000 Palestinians dead, mostly civilians, and created famine conditions. Jesus never remained silent in the face of injustice, whether confronting religious leaders about their hypocrisy or driving money-changers from the temple. His example challenges us to speak truth without partiality, recognizing that “we cannot apologize for truth: and yet we must not weaponize it. We must speak truth rooted in lament, not in tribal vindication”.

    3. Rejection of Dehumanizing Theologies

    Jesus consistently challenged religious frameworks that justified ignoring human suffering. He healed on the Sabbath, touched the unclean, and ate with sinners—all acts that privileged human need over rigid interpretations of religion. In Gaza, Jesus would undoubtedly reject theologies that privilege one people’s security over another’s right to exist, or that use Scripture to justify endless violence. He would confront what Munther Isaac identifies as the “matrix of coloniality, racism, and theology” that enables the current violence . His ministry reveals a God whose compassion is “indiscriminately available to all”, not a tribal deity who takes sides in human conflicts.

    The Crisis of Christian Conscience

    The tragedy of Gaza’s displacement is not merely humanitarian; it represents a profound crisis of Christian conscience. While millions suffer, many Christians have remained silent, defensive, or openly supportive of policies that lead to civilian casualties and mass displacement. This failure stems from what Palestinian Christian Dr. Fares Abraham identifies as “the absence of Christ-honoring compassion during these darkest moments of our humanity”.

    This moral failure has theological roots. For decades, certain strands of Christian theology—particularly forms of Christian Zionism—have uncritically supported Israeli policy while minimizing Palestinian suffering. This theology often spiritualizes away Palestinian rights and interprets biblical prophecies in ways that require unquestioning support for the Israeli state. As the Gaza war strains these theological models, even evangelical scholars are questioning whether their frameworks have “exhausted a group of evangelical Bible professors pursuing unity on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict”.

    The result is what Munther Isaac rightly calls complicity: “The denial is so loud. It’s nothing short of complicity” . When we fail to name atrocities—when we hesitate to call out the killing of 17,000 children or the deliberate creation of famine conditions—we become like the religious leaders who passed by on the other side in Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan . Our silence echoes that of German Christians who largely failed to protest the Nazi persecution of Jews—a historical parallel that should unsettle every Christian conscience.

    Beyond Bunker Mentalities: Toward a Cruciform Compassion

    Christian response to Gaza’s displacement requires moving beyond what Graham Joseph Hill calls “bunker mentalities” that shrink our moral imagination . Nationalism, he argues, “shrinks the heart. Tribal identity makes vacuums in compassion.” Instead, we need a spirituality that embodies what the ancient Christian tradition called orthopathos—right emotions—particularly the virtue of compassion.

    Table: Elements of Christian Response to Gaza’s Displacement

    Theological ConceptTraditional ResponseTransformed Response
    CompassionPity from a distanceIdentification with suffering
    SolidarityCharity for those like usJustice for all oppressed
    Land TheologyExclusive divine promiseShared homeland for all
    SecurityMilitary protection for oneHuman security for all
    PeacemakingAbsence of conflictPresence of justice

    This compassion is not mere sentiment but what the Latin root (compati) literally means: to suffer with . It moves beyond sympathy (“feeling for”) to identification (“suffering with”). This compassion becomes incarnational—taking flesh in concrete action:

    1. The Spiritual Practice of Lament

    Christian tradition offers us the language of lament—the spiritual practice of grieving honestly before God. Lament refuses to rush to resolution or theological justification. It sits in the dust with Job, weeps with Jesus at Lazarus’ tomb, and cries out with the Psalmist, “How long, O Lord?”. Lament creates space to “weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15), holding the cries of Gazan mothers alongside Israeli survivors of Hamas’ attacks. This lament must include both Israeli and Palestinian suffering, refusing to play a morbid calculus of comparative victimhood.

    2. Prophetic Truth-Telling

    Following Jesus requires naming injustices without partiality. We must condemn Hamas’ violence and call for the release of all hostages while also condemning Israel’s disproportionate tactics, blockade, and creation of famine conditions. This includes using accurate moral language—even when it makes us uncomfortable. When evidence mounts from numerous Holocaust scholars, genocide experts, and international bodies that Israel’s actions meet the legal definition of genocide, Christians must have the courage to name this reality.

    3. Concrete Solidarity

    Compassionate orthopathos must translate into orthopraxy—right action. This includes supporting humanitarian efforts, advocating for ceasefires, demanding our governments stop supplying weapons used against civilians, and welcoming displaced people. It means pressuring governments to “open windows for water, food, and medicine, without strings attached”. As Hill powerfully states, “We don’t bless bombs. We bless bread. We don’t sanctify oppression. We wash feet”.

    4. Theological Reformation

    We need to develop theological frameworks that transcend the partisan divides that have captured Christian witness. This requires rejecting the “us versus them” binary thinking that contradicts the inclusive vision of the gospel. As the Christians in Conversation on the Middle East group has modeled, we need spaces where “self-critique” and genuine listening can occur across theological divides. This theological reformation must center the image of God in every human being—Israeli and Palestinian alike—and recognize that authentic Christian hope “lies not in political solutions but in the Prince of Peace who will one day make all things right”.

    The Courage to See Christ in the Rubble

    The forced displacement of Gazans represents one of the great moral crises of our time—a crisis that demands Christian response rooted in the life and teachings of Jesus. This response begins with recognizing what Palestinian theologian Munther Isaac calls “Christ in the rubble”—the Christ who identifies with victims buried under the debris of violence . It continues with embracing a compassion that suffers with those who suffer, and it culminates in courageous action that protects life, demands justice, and refuses to choose between victims.

    The way of Jesus—the way of the cross—invites us to stand in the crack where grief meets hope. It calls us to reject nationalistic idolatries and tribal loyalties that shrink our hearts. It challenges us to embody what Graham Joseph Hill calls “cruciform ethics” that “doesn’t shy from calling out abuses but does so without rhetorical weaponry”.

    As the world watches Gaza’s displacement with either horror or indifference, Christians face a choice: will we be chaplains to power or sanctuaries for the broken? Will we bless bombs or bless bread? Will we sanctify oppression or wash feet? The answer will determine not only the credibility of our witness but the fidelity of our discipleship.

    In the end, the question is not whether God is present in Gaza’s suffering—the Incarnation assures us God is profoundly there, buried in the rubble with the suffering. The real question is whether we will have the courage to join God there.

    “Grief cracks the heart open wide enough to carry courage.

  • 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.