"Give me my heart's desires in Coolies and I will make you a million hogsheads of sugar" - A British sugar planter in the Caribbean.
 When Permanent Secretary for Finance Shiri Gounder declared that Fiji must begin planning an exit from the sugar industry, he did more than ignite an economic debate. He touched one of the deepest historical and emotional nerves in the country's modern history. His argument was stark. Fiji, he said, must stop "fooling ourselves" into believing that sugar can simply be restored to its former glory. Reviving the industry, he suggested, could require billions of dollars of taxpayer funding with little realistic prospect of success. Instead, Government should begin helping farmers transition into alternative agricultural industries. His remarks immediately drew criticism from cane farmers, among them Sakiasi Kele, who argued that sugar remains the lifeblood of rural Fiji and warned against abandoning an industry that continues to sustain thousands of families. |   |
Both, in different ways, are correct. But neither side can ignore the larger truth.
The debate over sugar is no longer simply about cane production, milling efficiency or government subsidies. It is about Fiji's history. It is about the legacy of Girmit. It is about taxpayers.
And it is about whether political leaders are finally prepared to confront realities that successive governments have postponed for decades.
Sugar Is Inextricably Tied to the Memory of Indenture
Any discussion of Fiji's sugar industry must begin with history. Sugar cannot be treated merely as another agricultural commodity. It is inextricably tied to the memory of indenture. Between 1879 and 1916, more than 60,000 Indians were brought to Fiji under the Girmit system to work on the plantations of the Colonial Sugar Refining Company. They crossed the kala pani, endured harsh conditions, long hours, poor wages and immense personal hardship.
Many never returned to India. Instead, they built new lives in Fiji. Their labour transformed the colony's economy. Their sacrifice built an industry that for more than a century became Fiji's largest export earner and the foundation of countless rural communities.
Every cane field carries the memory of Girmit. Every sugar mill stands as a reminder of that extraordinary human journey. For descendants of the Girmitiyas, sugar is far more than a crop. It is part of their identity. It is a living memorial to those who endured indenture and helped shape modern Fiji.
That history cannot be erased by economic statistics. Nor should it be.
But History Alone Cannot Sustain an Industry
Yet history, however important, cannot substitute for economic reality. The international sugar industry has changed beyond recognition. Countries that once competed alongside Fiji invested heavily in modernisation. Brazil developed a world-leading ethanol industry alongside sugar production. Australia embraced mechanised harvesting and cutting-edge milling technology. Thailand expanded production and export capacity. Mauritius diversified into premium sugars, renewable energy and high-value agricultural products.
Fiji largely failed to make that transition. Instead, ageing mills became increasingly unreliable. Mechanisation lagged behind. Production costs rose. Cane production declined. Young people left farming. The industry's competitiveness steadily weakened.
The Farmer Is Not the Villain
One of the greatest injustices in this debate would be to blame the farmer. Farmers did not create today's crisis. They did not allow mills to become obsolete. They did not negotiate the loss of preferential European Union sugar prices. They did not create uncertainty over agricultural leases. They did not design inconsistent government policies. Nor did they create the political instability that repeatedly disrupted Fiji's economic development.
For decades they continued planting cane despite declining returns, rising costs, labour shortages and repeated natural disasters. They have carried burdens not of their own making. When cane farmers defend sugar, they are not merely defending an industry. They are defending their livelihoods, their families and the communities that have depended upon sugar for generations.
The Cost of Political Failure
No honest assessment can ignore Fiji's political history. The sugar industry's decline did not occur in isolation.
The coups of 1987, 2000 and 2006 damaged investor confidence, disrupted long-term planning and diverted governments away from structural economic reform.
Land lease uncertainty discouraged investment.
Financial institutions became increasingly cautious.
Successive administrations frequently chose short-term political solutions over long-term restructuring. Sugar became another casualty of political indecision. Instead of preparing the industry for global competition, governments increasingly relied upon subsidies and debt write-offs.
That delayed difficult decisions. It did not solve the underlying problems.
Gounder Asked the Question Politicians Avoid
Whether one agrees with him or not, Shiri Gounder deserves credit for raising a question that many politicians have preferred not to ask.
Can Fiji continue spending hundreds of millions of taxpayer dollars supporting an industry whose production continues to decline?
Every dollar directed towards sugar is a dollar unavailable for hospitals, schools, roads, climate resilience, water infrastructure or investment in emerging agricultural industries.
This is not an argument against farmers. It is an argument about public policy. Governments have an obligation to support vulnerable communities. They also have an obligation to spend taxpayers' money responsibly. Those responsibilities are sometimes difficult to reconcile.
But Government Cannot Simply Walk Away
Equally, Government cannot simply declare that sugar has no future and expect rural Fiji to absorb the consequences. Thousands of families still depend directly upon cane farming. Transport operators, harvesting contractors, engineering workshops, fertiliser suppliers and countless small businesses depend upon the annual crushing season.
An abrupt withdrawal of support would devastate entire communities.
Transition, if it comes, must therefore be gradual.
It must include financial assistance, retraining, infrastructure investment and genuine opportunities for alternative agriculture. Diversification is not achieved through speeches. It requires markets, investment, technical expertise and long-term planning.
Stop Selling False Hope
Perhaps the greatest failure of successive governments has been their reluctance to tell the public the truth.
If Fiji believes sugar remains commercially viable, then Government should present a comprehensive restructuring strategy. It should explain how mills will be modernised.
How harvesting will be mechanised.
How productivity will increase.
How ethanol production and renewable energy will expand.
How dependence on taxpayer subsidies will decline.
If, however, Government believes the industry can never again become internationally competitive, then it owes farmers honesty.
False hope is not policy.
Political slogans do not create profitable industries.
Sugar's Legacy Must Be Preserved
Even if the industry's economic role continues to diminish, its historical importance must never be forgotten.
The story of Girmit is inseparable from the story of sugar.
The preservation of old mills, railway systems, Girmit sites and plantation history should become part of Fiji's national heritage.
Future generations should understand that sugar was not simply an export commodity.
It shaped the country's demography, economy, politics and national identity.
Its history deserves preservation regardless of its commercial future.
The Choice Before Fiji
This debate is not a contest between economists and farmers. Nor is it a choice between preserving history and embracing reform. The real challenge is finding a path that honours both.
The cane farmer defending sugar is defending generations of sacrifice.
Shiri Gounder is defending the interests of taxpayers and the long-term sustainability of Fiji's public finances.
Both perspectives deserve respect.
But neither nostalgia nor sentiment can replace sound economic policy.
Fiji's sugar industry was built upon the extraordinary sacrifices of the Girmitiyas.
It became the foundation of modern Fiji and sustained the nation for more than a century.
Its decline was not inevitable.
It resulted from decades of political instability, ageing infrastructure, inconsistent policy, land tenure uncertainty, failure to modernise and an inability to adapt to a changing global marketplace.
The question facing Fiji today is not whether to honour that legacy.
It unquestionably should.
The question is whether the country has the courage to distinguish between preserving history and preserving an economic model that may no longer be sustainable.
History must be remembered.
Farmers must be protected.
Taxpayers deserve honesty.
And Fiji's leaders must finally choose between continuing to manage decline or undertaking the difficult reforms that should have begun decades ago.
The legacy of Girmit deserves nothing less.
The debate over sugar is no longer simply about cane production, milling efficiency or government subsidies. It is about Fiji's history. It is about the legacy of Girmit. It is about taxpayers.
And it is about whether political leaders are finally prepared to confront realities that successive governments have postponed for decades.
Sugar Is Inextricably Tied to the Memory of Indenture
Any discussion of Fiji's sugar industry must begin with history. Sugar cannot be treated merely as another agricultural commodity. It is inextricably tied to the memory of indenture. Between 1879 and 1916, more than 60,000 Indians were brought to Fiji under the Girmit system to work on the plantations of the Colonial Sugar Refining Company. They crossed the kala pani, endured harsh conditions, long hours, poor wages and immense personal hardship.
Many never returned to India. Instead, they built new lives in Fiji. Their labour transformed the colony's economy. Their sacrifice built an industry that for more than a century became Fiji's largest export earner and the foundation of countless rural communities.
Every cane field carries the memory of Girmit. Every sugar mill stands as a reminder of that extraordinary human journey. For descendants of the Girmitiyas, sugar is far more than a crop. It is part of their identity. It is a living memorial to those who endured indenture and helped shape modern Fiji.
That history cannot be erased by economic statistics. Nor should it be.
But History Alone Cannot Sustain an Industry
Yet history, however important, cannot substitute for economic reality. The international sugar industry has changed beyond recognition. Countries that once competed alongside Fiji invested heavily in modernisation. Brazil developed a world-leading ethanol industry alongside sugar production. Australia embraced mechanised harvesting and cutting-edge milling technology. Thailand expanded production and export capacity. Mauritius diversified into premium sugars, renewable energy and high-value agricultural products.
Fiji largely failed to make that transition. Instead, ageing mills became increasingly unreliable. Mechanisation lagged behind. Production costs rose. Cane production declined. Young people left farming. The industry's competitiveness steadily weakened.
The Farmer Is Not the Villain
One of the greatest injustices in this debate would be to blame the farmer. Farmers did not create today's crisis. They did not allow mills to become obsolete. They did not negotiate the loss of preferential European Union sugar prices. They did not create uncertainty over agricultural leases. They did not design inconsistent government policies. Nor did they create the political instability that repeatedly disrupted Fiji's economic development.
For decades they continued planting cane despite declining returns, rising costs, labour shortages and repeated natural disasters. They have carried burdens not of their own making. When cane farmers defend sugar, they are not merely defending an industry. They are defending their livelihoods, their families and the communities that have depended upon sugar for generations.
The Cost of Political Failure
No honest assessment can ignore Fiji's political history. The sugar industry's decline did not occur in isolation.
The coups of 1987, 2000 and 2006 damaged investor confidence, disrupted long-term planning and diverted governments away from structural economic reform.
Land lease uncertainty discouraged investment.
Financial institutions became increasingly cautious.
Successive administrations frequently chose short-term political solutions over long-term restructuring. Sugar became another casualty of political indecision. Instead of preparing the industry for global competition, governments increasingly relied upon subsidies and debt write-offs.
That delayed difficult decisions. It did not solve the underlying problems.
Gounder Asked the Question Politicians Avoid
Whether one agrees with him or not, Shiri Gounder deserves credit for raising a question that many politicians have preferred not to ask.
Can Fiji continue spending hundreds of millions of taxpayer dollars supporting an industry whose production continues to decline?
Every dollar directed towards sugar is a dollar unavailable for hospitals, schools, roads, climate resilience, water infrastructure or investment in emerging agricultural industries.
This is not an argument against farmers. It is an argument about public policy. Governments have an obligation to support vulnerable communities. They also have an obligation to spend taxpayers' money responsibly. Those responsibilities are sometimes difficult to reconcile.
But Government Cannot Simply Walk Away
Equally, Government cannot simply declare that sugar has no future and expect rural Fiji to absorb the consequences. Thousands of families still depend directly upon cane farming. Transport operators, harvesting contractors, engineering workshops, fertiliser suppliers and countless small businesses depend upon the annual crushing season.
An abrupt withdrawal of support would devastate entire communities.
Transition, if it comes, must therefore be gradual.
It must include financial assistance, retraining, infrastructure investment and genuine opportunities for alternative agriculture. Diversification is not achieved through speeches. It requires markets, investment, technical expertise and long-term planning.
Stop Selling False Hope
Perhaps the greatest failure of successive governments has been their reluctance to tell the public the truth.
If Fiji believes sugar remains commercially viable, then Government should present a comprehensive restructuring strategy. It should explain how mills will be modernised.
How harvesting will be mechanised.
How productivity will increase.
How ethanol production and renewable energy will expand.
How dependence on taxpayer subsidies will decline.
If, however, Government believes the industry can never again become internationally competitive, then it owes farmers honesty.
False hope is not policy.
Political slogans do not create profitable industries.
Sugar's Legacy Must Be Preserved
Even if the industry's economic role continues to diminish, its historical importance must never be forgotten.
The story of Girmit is inseparable from the story of sugar.
The preservation of old mills, railway systems, Girmit sites and plantation history should become part of Fiji's national heritage.
Future generations should understand that sugar was not simply an export commodity.
It shaped the country's demography, economy, politics and national identity.
Its history deserves preservation regardless of its commercial future.
The Choice Before Fiji
This debate is not a contest between economists and farmers. Nor is it a choice between preserving history and embracing reform. The real challenge is finding a path that honours both.
The cane farmer defending sugar is defending generations of sacrifice.
Shiri Gounder is defending the interests of taxpayers and the long-term sustainability of Fiji's public finances.
Both perspectives deserve respect.
But neither nostalgia nor sentiment can replace sound economic policy.
Fiji's sugar industry was built upon the extraordinary sacrifices of the Girmitiyas.
It became the foundation of modern Fiji and sustained the nation for more than a century.
Its decline was not inevitable.
It resulted from decades of political instability, ageing infrastructure, inconsistent policy, land tenure uncertainty, failure to modernise and an inability to adapt to a changing global marketplace.
The question facing Fiji today is not whether to honour that legacy.
It unquestionably should.
The question is whether the country has the courage to distinguish between preserving history and preserving an economic model that may no longer be sustainable.
History must be remembered.
Farmers must be protected.
Taxpayers deserve honesty.
And Fiji's leaders must finally choose between continuing to manage decline or undertaking the difficult reforms that should have begun decades ago.
The legacy of Girmit deserves nothing less.
From Indenture to Innovation: What Fiji Can Learn from the Mauritian Sugar Industry Without Forgetting the Shared Legacy of the Girmityas
The history of Fiji and Mauritius is intertwined by one of the darkest chapters of the British Empire: the indenture system. Between the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, thousands of Indian labourers, dismissively labelled "coolies" by colonial authorities, were transported across the oceans to work on sugar plantations after the abolition of slavery. Their sweat built two sugar economies. Their suffering laid the foundations of two modern nations.
Yet while both countries inherited almost identical colonial structures, their sugar industries have travelled in markedly different directions.
Mauritius has managed, despite severe challenges, to restructure and diversify its industry. Fiji's sugar sector, by contrast, has endured decades of declining production, ageing farmers, deteriorating infrastructure and persistent political interference.
The comparison is not perfect. Mauritius and Fiji differ in geography, population, market access and political economy. Nevertheless, the Mauritian experience offers valuable lessons as Fiji debates whether sugar still has a future.
A Common Beginning
Both industries were born under British colonial rule. Indentured labourers from India arrived in Mauritius from 1834 onwards and in Fiji from 1879 until 1916. In both colonies, labourers signed contracts they scarcely understood, endured harsh plantation discipline, low wages and racial discrimination, and, after completing their contracts, many remained as small farmers rather than returning to India.
Sugar became more than an export crop. It became the economic foundation upon which schools, roads, ports, towns and government revenues depended.
For descendants of the Girmitiyas in Fiji, sugar is inseparable from memory. Every cane field carries echoes of the indenture lines, overseers' whips, broken promises and remarkable resilience. That historical reality cannot be erased simply because the industry is no longer commercially dominant.
Mauritius Faced Crisis Earlier
Mauritius did not escape hardship. Like Fiji, it confronted declining European sugar prices, rising labour costs, competition from larger producers and shrinking preferential access to overseas markets.
Rather than treating every crisis as temporary, Mauritian governments gradually accepted that the industry had to transform.
That transformation did not mean abandoning sugar overnight.
It meant changing what sugar represented.
From Sugar to a Sugar Economy
Mauritius increasingly shifted from selling raw sugar to extracting value from every part of the sugar cane. Today, cane supports multiple industries:
Instead of relying entirely upon volatile raw sugar exports, the industry became part of a broader bio-economy. Sugar remained important. But it was no longer expected to carry the entire economy.
Consolidation Instead of Fragmentation
Mauritius also recognised that fragmented production reduced efficiency. Mills were modernised. Many inefficient factories were closed. Mechanisation increased. Supply chains became more integrated. These decisions were politically difficult. Communities feared job losses. Governments faced criticism.
Yet delaying reform would almost certainly have produced an even deeper crisis later.
Fiji has often postponed difficult decisions. Instead of long-term restructuring, governments have repeatedly announced rescue packages, subsidies and promises that production would soon recover. Each new crop season becomes another emergency.
Institutions Matter
Mauritius gradually strengthened institutions responsible for research, marketing, extension services and industry planning. Research into higher-yield cane varieties continued. Farmers received technical support. Industry decisions increasingly reflected commercial realities rather than purely political considerations.
Fiji once possessed internationally respected sugar research capacity. Many of those capabilities have weakened through years of under-investment, institutional instability and declining confidence.
Diversification Beyond Agriculture
Perhaps the greatest Mauritian achievement lay outside sugar itself. Recognising that sugar alone could never sustain national prosperity, Mauritius deliberately diversified into textiles, financial services, tourism, higher education, information technology; and offshore business services.
As these sectors expanded, sugar no longer carried the burden of employing large sections of the population or generating the majority of export earnings.
Fiji has diversified in important ways, particularly through tourism, but sugar policy has often remained trapped in the assumption that cane production can somehow return to the levels achieved decades ago.
Demography alone makes that unlikely.
The Human Challenge
Both countries have ageing farming populations. Young people increasingly prefer urban employment. Farming is physically demanding. Returns are uncertain. Climate change has intensified weather risks.
Mauritius responded partly through mechanisation and consolidation. Fiji still faces major labour shortages in harvesting and transport. Without addressing rural labour realities, production targets risk becoming political slogans rather than economic forecasts.
Heritage Has Economic Value
Mauritius has also embraced its sugar history as part of its national heritage. Former sugar estates now house museums, cultural centres, restaurants and tourist attractions.
The history of indenture became part of national identity rather than something hidden away.
Fiji possesses equally powerful historical assets.
The story of the Leonidas, the Girmitiyas, CSR, colonial plantations and the eventual emergence of Indo-Fijian farming communities represents a unique chapter of global migration history.
That history deserves preservation irrespective of the industry's commercial future.
Lessons for Fiji
The Mauritian experience suggests several lessons. First, sentiment cannot substitute for economics. Governments cannot indefinitely sustain an industry simply through subsidies if productivity continues to decline.
Second, diversification creates resilience. Sugar should become one component of a wider rural economy rather than its sole foundation.
Third, value addition matters more than volume alone. Fiji should increasingly explore refined sugars, specialty products, ethanol, renewable energy, premium rum and other downstream industries.
Fourth, research and innovation require sustained investment. Improved cane varieties, mechanisation and modern milling technologies are essential if production is to remain competitive.
Finally, history should not be sacrificed in pursuit of reform. The legacy of indenture belongs to the nation, not merely to the sugar industry.
Fiji Must Avoid False Choices
The debate should not be framed as choosing between saving sugar and abandoning it. Nor should it descend into romantic nostalgia that ignores economic reality.
The real question is whether Fiji can transform its sugar sector into a modern agricultural and bio-industrial enterprise while preserving the extraordinary legacy of the Girmitiyas who built it.
Mauritius demonstrates that transformation is possible.
It also demonstrates that transformation demands political courage, institutional competence and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths before circumstances force them upon the nation.
Sugar gave both Mauritius and Fiji their economic beginnings.
But history teaches that industries survive not because governments wish them to survive, but because they adapt.
For Fiji, the greatest lesson from Mauritius may therefore be this: honour the sacrifices of the descendants of the indentured labourers not by preserving yesterday's industry unchanged, but by ensuring that their descendants inherit an economy capable of thriving in tomorrow's world.
The Unfinished Lesson - Land Security:
There is, however, one crucial difference between Mauritius and Fiji that no discussion of sugar can honestly ignore.
Mauritius did not have to contend with the recurring uncertainty over agricultural land leases that has haunted Fiji's cane industry for decades. While Mauritian cane farmers generally enjoyed far greater long-term security over the land they cultivated, many of Fiji's cane farmers have lived under the constant shadow of expiring leases under the Agricultural Landlord and Tenant Act (ALTA) and the transition to native leases.
Beginning in the late 1990s, thousands of Indo-Fijian cane farmers either lost their leases or chose to leave farming because they could no longer justify investing in land that they might be required to surrender. Others continued farming under the persistent uncertainty that the next lease renewal was never guaranteed. For a farmer deciding whether to plant a crop that takes years to mature, invest in irrigation, purchase machinery or improve soil quality, security of tenure is not an abstract legal concept. It is the foundation of every economic decision.
The consequences were profound. Families who had cultivated the same cane fields for generations left rural communities. Mills lost growers. Schools, businesses and entire settlements that had depended on the sugar economy declined alongside them. The industry's shrinking production cannot be understood without recognising the central role that land insecurity played.
Many indigenous iTaukei landowners exercised their lawful rights not to renew leases, while others negotiated new arrangements. Yet, irrespective of the legal position, the cumulative effect of lease expiries and the continuing perception that agricultural land could be reclaimed or might not be renewed created an atmosphere of uncertainty that discouraged long-term investment throughout the industry.
That is perhaps the greatest lesson separating Mauritius from Fiji.
A successful sugar industry requires more than fertile soil, modern mills and government subsidies. It requires confidence that those who cultivate the land will be able to continue cultivating it long enough to justify investing in its future.
The descendants of the Girmitiyas transformed wilderness into productive cane fields over generations. Many did so believing that hard work and stewardship would secure a future for their children. Too often, that confidence was shattered when leases expired or renewal became uncertain.
No agricultural industry can flourish where investment is constantly overshadowed by insecurity of tenure. Until Fiji finds a durable and mutually beneficial framework that respects both iTaukei ownership rights and provides genuine long-term certainty for productive farmers, the country will continue to struggle to emulate the achievements of Mauritius.
That may well be the most enduring lesson of all: sugar can survive droughts, cyclones and fluctuating world prices but no industry can prosper indefinitely when those who work the land fear that one day the land beneath their feet may no longer be theirs to farm.
Yet while both countries inherited almost identical colonial structures, their sugar industries have travelled in markedly different directions.
Mauritius has managed, despite severe challenges, to restructure and diversify its industry. Fiji's sugar sector, by contrast, has endured decades of declining production, ageing farmers, deteriorating infrastructure and persistent political interference.
The comparison is not perfect. Mauritius and Fiji differ in geography, population, market access and political economy. Nevertheless, the Mauritian experience offers valuable lessons as Fiji debates whether sugar still has a future.
A Common Beginning
Both industries were born under British colonial rule. Indentured labourers from India arrived in Mauritius from 1834 onwards and in Fiji from 1879 until 1916. In both colonies, labourers signed contracts they scarcely understood, endured harsh plantation discipline, low wages and racial discrimination, and, after completing their contracts, many remained as small farmers rather than returning to India.
Sugar became more than an export crop. It became the economic foundation upon which schools, roads, ports, towns and government revenues depended.
For descendants of the Girmitiyas in Fiji, sugar is inseparable from memory. Every cane field carries echoes of the indenture lines, overseers' whips, broken promises and remarkable resilience. That historical reality cannot be erased simply because the industry is no longer commercially dominant.
Mauritius Faced Crisis Earlier
Mauritius did not escape hardship. Like Fiji, it confronted declining European sugar prices, rising labour costs, competition from larger producers and shrinking preferential access to overseas markets.
Rather than treating every crisis as temporary, Mauritian governments gradually accepted that the industry had to transform.
That transformation did not mean abandoning sugar overnight.
It meant changing what sugar represented.
From Sugar to a Sugar Economy
Mauritius increasingly shifted from selling raw sugar to extracting value from every part of the sugar cane. Today, cane supports multiple industries:
- refined and speciality sugars;
- electricity generation through bagasse;
- ethanol and industrial alcohol;
- rum production;
- bio-based products;
- tourism linked to plantation heritage.
Instead of relying entirely upon volatile raw sugar exports, the industry became part of a broader bio-economy. Sugar remained important. But it was no longer expected to carry the entire economy.
Consolidation Instead of Fragmentation
Mauritius also recognised that fragmented production reduced efficiency. Mills were modernised. Many inefficient factories were closed. Mechanisation increased. Supply chains became more integrated. These decisions were politically difficult. Communities feared job losses. Governments faced criticism.
Yet delaying reform would almost certainly have produced an even deeper crisis later.
Fiji has often postponed difficult decisions. Instead of long-term restructuring, governments have repeatedly announced rescue packages, subsidies and promises that production would soon recover. Each new crop season becomes another emergency.
Institutions Matter
Mauritius gradually strengthened institutions responsible for research, marketing, extension services and industry planning. Research into higher-yield cane varieties continued. Farmers received technical support. Industry decisions increasingly reflected commercial realities rather than purely political considerations.
Fiji once possessed internationally respected sugar research capacity. Many of those capabilities have weakened through years of under-investment, institutional instability and declining confidence.
Diversification Beyond Agriculture
Perhaps the greatest Mauritian achievement lay outside sugar itself. Recognising that sugar alone could never sustain national prosperity, Mauritius deliberately diversified into textiles, financial services, tourism, higher education, information technology; and offshore business services.
As these sectors expanded, sugar no longer carried the burden of employing large sections of the population or generating the majority of export earnings.
Fiji has diversified in important ways, particularly through tourism, but sugar policy has often remained trapped in the assumption that cane production can somehow return to the levels achieved decades ago.
Demography alone makes that unlikely.
The Human Challenge
Both countries have ageing farming populations. Young people increasingly prefer urban employment. Farming is physically demanding. Returns are uncertain. Climate change has intensified weather risks.
Mauritius responded partly through mechanisation and consolidation. Fiji still faces major labour shortages in harvesting and transport. Without addressing rural labour realities, production targets risk becoming political slogans rather than economic forecasts.
Heritage Has Economic Value
Mauritius has also embraced its sugar history as part of its national heritage. Former sugar estates now house museums, cultural centres, restaurants and tourist attractions.
The history of indenture became part of national identity rather than something hidden away.
Fiji possesses equally powerful historical assets.
The story of the Leonidas, the Girmitiyas, CSR, colonial plantations and the eventual emergence of Indo-Fijian farming communities represents a unique chapter of global migration history.
That history deserves preservation irrespective of the industry's commercial future.
Lessons for Fiji
The Mauritian experience suggests several lessons. First, sentiment cannot substitute for economics. Governments cannot indefinitely sustain an industry simply through subsidies if productivity continues to decline.
Second, diversification creates resilience. Sugar should become one component of a wider rural economy rather than its sole foundation.
Third, value addition matters more than volume alone. Fiji should increasingly explore refined sugars, specialty products, ethanol, renewable energy, premium rum and other downstream industries.
Fourth, research and innovation require sustained investment. Improved cane varieties, mechanisation and modern milling technologies are essential if production is to remain competitive.
Finally, history should not be sacrificed in pursuit of reform. The legacy of indenture belongs to the nation, not merely to the sugar industry.
Fiji Must Avoid False Choices
The debate should not be framed as choosing between saving sugar and abandoning it. Nor should it descend into romantic nostalgia that ignores economic reality.
The real question is whether Fiji can transform its sugar sector into a modern agricultural and bio-industrial enterprise while preserving the extraordinary legacy of the Girmitiyas who built it.
Mauritius demonstrates that transformation is possible.
It also demonstrates that transformation demands political courage, institutional competence and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths before circumstances force them upon the nation.
Sugar gave both Mauritius and Fiji their economic beginnings.
But history teaches that industries survive not because governments wish them to survive, but because they adapt.
For Fiji, the greatest lesson from Mauritius may therefore be this: honour the sacrifices of the descendants of the indentured labourers not by preserving yesterday's industry unchanged, but by ensuring that their descendants inherit an economy capable of thriving in tomorrow's world.
The Unfinished Lesson - Land Security:
There is, however, one crucial difference between Mauritius and Fiji that no discussion of sugar can honestly ignore.
Mauritius did not have to contend with the recurring uncertainty over agricultural land leases that has haunted Fiji's cane industry for decades. While Mauritian cane farmers generally enjoyed far greater long-term security over the land they cultivated, many of Fiji's cane farmers have lived under the constant shadow of expiring leases under the Agricultural Landlord and Tenant Act (ALTA) and the transition to native leases.
Beginning in the late 1990s, thousands of Indo-Fijian cane farmers either lost their leases or chose to leave farming because they could no longer justify investing in land that they might be required to surrender. Others continued farming under the persistent uncertainty that the next lease renewal was never guaranteed. For a farmer deciding whether to plant a crop that takes years to mature, invest in irrigation, purchase machinery or improve soil quality, security of tenure is not an abstract legal concept. It is the foundation of every economic decision.
The consequences were profound. Families who had cultivated the same cane fields for generations left rural communities. Mills lost growers. Schools, businesses and entire settlements that had depended on the sugar economy declined alongside them. The industry's shrinking production cannot be understood without recognising the central role that land insecurity played.
Many indigenous iTaukei landowners exercised their lawful rights not to renew leases, while others negotiated new arrangements. Yet, irrespective of the legal position, the cumulative effect of lease expiries and the continuing perception that agricultural land could be reclaimed or might not be renewed created an atmosphere of uncertainty that discouraged long-term investment throughout the industry.
That is perhaps the greatest lesson separating Mauritius from Fiji.
A successful sugar industry requires more than fertile soil, modern mills and government subsidies. It requires confidence that those who cultivate the land will be able to continue cultivating it long enough to justify investing in its future.
The descendants of the Girmitiyas transformed wilderness into productive cane fields over generations. Many did so believing that hard work and stewardship would secure a future for their children. Too often, that confidence was shattered when leases expired or renewal became uncertain.
No agricultural industry can flourish where investment is constantly overshadowed by insecurity of tenure. Until Fiji finds a durable and mutually beneficial framework that respects both iTaukei ownership rights and provides genuine long-term certainty for productive farmers, the country will continue to struggle to emulate the achievements of Mauritius.
That may well be the most enduring lesson of all: sugar can survive droughts, cyclones and fluctuating world prices but no industry can prosper indefinitely when those who work the land fear that one day the land beneath their feet may no longer be theirs to farm.
