Tag: vanua

• From Kigali to Suva: What Fiji’s Leaders Can Learn from Rwanda’s Audacious F1 Dream

  When news broke that Rwanda is seriously vying to host a Formula 1 Grand Prix, many in the world met it with surprise. The typical reaction: a small, landlocked African nation, known to the world for a tragic past, now wanting to stand alongside glitzy destinations like Monaco, Abu Dhabi, and Singapore? It seems audacious, almost fanciful.

  But for those of us watching from Fiji, an island nation grappling with its own potential, the response should not be surprise. It should be a profound, and perhaps uncomfortable, moment of introspection. Rwanda’s F1 bid is not about car racing; it is the ultimate symbol of a leadership that thinks in decades, not electoral cycles. It is a lesson in what becomes possible when a leader’s vision is to build a nation, rather than merely to win an election.

  President Paul Kagame’s Rwanda is a case study in transformative leadership. The foundation was not laid with glamorous projects, but with the gritty, unglamorous work of national rebuilding. The monthly community work of Umuganda was more than just cleaning streets; it was a deliberate strategy to forge a shared social contract, instilling discipline, collective responsibility, and a tangible sense of progress from the ground up. Once the foundation of civic pride and order was secure, the sky became the limit. The country now boasts being the “Singapore of Africa”—a tech hub, a beacon of cleanliness and security, and a destination for global conferences.

  The F1 ambition is the logical next step in this vision. It signals to the world: “We are open for business, we are capable, we are world-class.” It is an economic stimulus package wrapped in a global marketing campaign. The message is clear: we are no longer defined by our past, but by our audacious future.

  Now, let us turn our gaze to our own beloved Fiji. We are blessed with natural beauty that Rwanda can only dream of. We have a resilient people, a strategic location, and a history of punching above our weight on the global stage. Yet, we often find ourselves trapped in a cycle of short-term political manoeuvring. Our national discourse is too frequently dominated by racial and political divisions that harken back to a past we seem unable to transcend, rather than a future we are excited to build.

  Where is our Umuganda? Where is our unifying, nation-building project that asks every citizen to contribute to a cleaner, more orderly, and more cohesive Fiji? We have the veiqaravi vakavanua, the traditional communal obligations, but this spirit has not been consistently harnessed at a national level by visionary leadership to create a modern, shared civic identity. Instead, we see infrastructure that deteriorates, public services that strain, and a national mood that often swings between hope and cynicism.

  The difference lies in the nature of leadership. Visionary leadership, as seen in Rwanda, is not about popularity; it is about legacy. It is about having the courage to make difficult decisions today for a reward that a future generation will reap. It is about selling a dream so compelling that the people are willing to sweat for it. It asks not, “What can I promise to get re-elected?” but “What must I build to ensure my grandchildren’s prosperity?”

  Fiji does not need a Formula 1 race. But Fiji desperately needs the kind of thinking that an F1 bid represents. We need a leadership that dares to imagine a Fiji that is not just a tourist paradise, but a regional hub for finance, technology, and sustainable ocean-based industry. A leadership that invests in world-class education and healthcare not as a cost, but as the essential infrastructure of a 21st-century nation. A leadership that unites us under a common name of “Fijian,” where our diverse backgrounds become a source of strength, not a political weapon.

  Rwanda’s story is a provocation. It challenges the fatalistic notion that a nation’s destiny is sealed by its history or its size. It proves that transformation is possible with relentless focus, discipline, and a leader who paints the horizon not as a distant line, but as a destination within reach.

  The question for Fiji is not whether we can host a Grand Prix. The question is, do we have the leadership with the vision to make us believe we even could? Our potential is not in the ground or the sea; it is in the quality of our ambition. It is time we started reaching for the sky.

  2025.09.24

• Na Turaga na i Liuliu ni Vanua: Leadership as a Sacred Obligation

  The words of Cherokee elder Stan Rushworth, strike a chord that resonates deep within the Fijian soul, particularly for us iTaukei. The distinction between being born with “rights” and being born with “obligations” is not a foreign philosophy; it is the very essence of our traditional governance system, the Vanua. In an age obsessed with individual attainment, this indigenous wisdom offers a radical—and perhaps essential—redefinition of true leadership.

  The vulagi-settler mindset of “I have rights” is inherently self-centric, focusing on what is owed to the individual. In contrast, the indigenous mindset of “I have obligations” is community-centric. It asks, “What do I owe?” This question is the foundational principle of iTaukei leadership. One is not born a Turaga—a chief, a person of authority—simply to wield power. One is born a Turaga to serve.

  This is encapsulated in the Fijian proverb, “Na Turaga na nodra i liuliu na lewe ni vanua”: The chief is the foremost servant of the people. This authority is not a license for privilege, but a mandate for profound responsibility. The chief’s role is to be the custodian of the land (qele), the preserver of the culture (itovo vakavanua), and the unifying force for the people (lewenivanua); as demonstrated recently in the installation of Na Turaga Tui Nayau, in Nayau and Lakeba. The chief’s well-being is inextricably linked to that of the Vanua. If the people suffer, the chief has failed in this primary obligation.

  This principle extends beyond the village. A former Commanding Officer of the Fiji Battalion in the Sinai noted that the motto, “Leadership is Service!” was not merely a phrase but a lived cultural truth. The legendary bravery of the Fijian soldier is often misunderstood; it is not just a product of military training, but an extension of a deeper cultural duty—the obligation to protect the community and serve a cause greater than oneself. This is leading by serving, where authority is earned through selfless action, not demanded by title.

  This compels a critical question: are we, the iTaukei, still honouring this sacred covenant?

  Modernity, with its allure of individual rights and political power, has created a tension in our society. We witness a dangerous shift where some seek leadership positions to be served, rather than to serve. The title of “Turaga” is at times pursued for the status it confers and the economic benefits derived, not for the burdens it carries. This corrupts the very essence of the Vanua, hollowing out our traditions into empty performances.

  True iTaukei leadership is the opposite. It is about serving to lead. One serves the community, the elders, the past by upholding tradition, and the future by protecting the land. Through this demonstrated commitment, leadership is naturally conferred and respected. Its legitimacy is rooted in fulfilled obligations.

  The elder’s wisdom is thus an urgent call for introspection—for our leaders in the village, the church, and the nation. It challenges us all:

  • Do we see our positions as a platform for our own voice, or as a responsibility to listen to the voices of our people?
  • Are we making decisions for short-term gain, or with an obligation to seven generations yet unborn?
  • Are we leading to build our own legacy, or serving to strengthen the eternal legacy of the Vanua?

  The path forward is not to reject rights, but to recenter our understanding of leadership on the deeper, more meaningful concept of obligations. Our identity as iTaukei is not a right we possess, but a gift from our ancestors. With that gift comes a solemn duty: to serve, to protect, and to nurture. When we embrace that obligation—to the past, present, future, and to the Vanua herself—we do more than become better leaders. We honour the very essence of what it means to be an ITaukei.

  Na Kalou na Vanua, na Vanua na Kalou. We are all its servants.

  2025.09.23

• Veivakaturagataki or Vesumona? The Exploitation of Our Religiosity

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

  Historical Manipulation and Spiritual Syncretism

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

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

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

  Contemporary Exploitation and Consequences

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

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

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

  Toward Authentic Spiritual Sovereignty

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

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

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

  2025.09.19