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  | Oh, the irony! The same self-righteous chorus that spent 2022 chanting “Anything but Bainimarama-Khaiyum!” is now clutching their pearls because Sitiveni “Mr. Coup 1987” Rabuka and his merry Coalition comrades are doing exactly what rational people, including Fijileaks, warned they would do. These political converts, former FFP apparatchiks, the instant democrats, moral crusaders, and born-again defenders of the rule of law, are now crying crocodile tears over the very swamp they helped fill. Let’s rewind the tape, shall we? |
Remember the high-minded op-eds, the self-congratulatory panel discussions, the “strategic voting” sermons from Fiji’s intelligentsia, NGOs, Facebook hacks, and the social media “freedom fighters”? Remember the endless exhortations: “We must remove FFP at all costs: Vote Rabuka, Vote Prasad, Vote Gavoka!”
They didn’t just whisper it. They shouted it from the rooftops, tweeted it in hashtags, printed it in editorials, and preached it at Sunday lunch tables. “Dislodge the dictatorship!” they cried. “Restore democracy!”
Well, congratulations, folks. Mission accomplished. You got your democracy, Rabuka-style.
You didn’t just hand him the keys to Parliament and the Government House. You handed him the moral legitimacy he never earned and the legal machinery to consolidate it.
And now, when Chief Justice Salesi Temo, the very man appointed through your Coalition’s constitutional manipulations, sits comfortably as Acting President, inspecting the Guard of Honour at Albert Park, sipping tea with the RFMF high command at the State House, suddenly you find your voices again?
Now, the crocodiles come out. “Judicial crisis!” “Constitutional overreach!” “Threat to the rule of law!”
Where were these “rule of law” saints when Rabuka was making his rounds promising “reconciliation” with the very military that overthrew the 1997 Constitution? Where were their op-eds when Biman Prasad was busy sanctifying the deal with the same old coup apologist, smiling for photo-ops as if Fiji had suddenly been redeemed by a coalition of angels?
Let’s be clear: Temo is Chief Justice and Acting President because of your vote, your moral complicity, and your desperate obsession with “getting rid of Bainimarama”.
You built this so-called political Frankenstein, and now you’re shocked it’s alive?
The irony is delicious, if it weren’t so tragic. The same academics, journalists, and NGO champions who called FFP “dictatorial” are now discovering that selective morality is a dangerous weapon. You cheered as the Coalition politicized the judiciary, hollowed out institutions, and rewarded loyalty over legality.
Now, when the same system turns its teeth inward, you squeal about abuse of power.
Sorry, friends, you don’t get to cry victim when you were the ones who fed the crocodile and told everyone else it was a misunderstood vegan.
So, the next time Fiji’s “civil society” cabal convenes another democracy workshop or issues another statement about judicial independence, maybe include a disclaimer:
“Warning: May contain hypocrisy. Results may include crocodile tears.”
Because this is the Fiji you chose, a Fiji where the Constitution is a convenience, justice a political weapon, and the Chief Justice doubles as Acting President while the nation watches the rule of law sink slowly beneath the swamp.
And as the crocodile sunbathes on the ruins of accountability, remember that it’s not biting you because it’s evil. It’s biting you because you fed it.
They didn’t just whisper it. They shouted it from the rooftops, tweeted it in hashtags, printed it in editorials, and preached it at Sunday lunch tables. “Dislodge the dictatorship!” they cried. “Restore democracy!”
Well, congratulations, folks. Mission accomplished. You got your democracy, Rabuka-style.
You didn’t just hand him the keys to Parliament and the Government House. You handed him the moral legitimacy he never earned and the legal machinery to consolidate it.
And now, when Chief Justice Salesi Temo, the very man appointed through your Coalition’s constitutional manipulations, sits comfortably as Acting President, inspecting the Guard of Honour at Albert Park, sipping tea with the RFMF high command at the State House, suddenly you find your voices again?
Now, the crocodiles come out. “Judicial crisis!” “Constitutional overreach!” “Threat to the rule of law!”
Where were these “rule of law” saints when Rabuka was making his rounds promising “reconciliation” with the very military that overthrew the 1997 Constitution? Where were their op-eds when Biman Prasad was busy sanctifying the deal with the same old coup apologist, smiling for photo-ops as if Fiji had suddenly been redeemed by a coalition of angels?
Let’s be clear: Temo is Chief Justice and Acting President because of your vote, your moral complicity, and your desperate obsession with “getting rid of Bainimarama”.
You built this so-called political Frankenstein, and now you’re shocked it’s alive?
The irony is delicious, if it weren’t so tragic. The same academics, journalists, and NGO champions who called FFP “dictatorial” are now discovering that selective morality is a dangerous weapon. You cheered as the Coalition politicized the judiciary, hollowed out institutions, and rewarded loyalty over legality.
Now, when the same system turns its teeth inward, you squeal about abuse of power.
Sorry, friends, you don’t get to cry victim when you were the ones who fed the crocodile and told everyone else it was a misunderstood vegan.
So, the next time Fiji’s “civil society” cabal convenes another democracy workshop or issues another statement about judicial independence, maybe include a disclaimer:
“Warning: May contain hypocrisy. Results may include crocodile tears.”
Because this is the Fiji you chose, a Fiji where the Constitution is a convenience, justice a political weapon, and the Chief Justice doubles as Acting President while the nation watches the rule of law sink slowly beneath the swamp.
And as the crocodile sunbathes on the ruins of accountability, remember that it’s not biting you because it’s evil. It’s biting you because you fed it.
*And, Your loud chants of 2022 will lie, like an overfed crocodile, in the National Archives of Fiji, preserved for generations as proof that noise is not the same as truth. You were the ones who fed the crocodile and told the Fijian VOTERS it was a misunderstood vegan.
FIJI@55: Fifty-five years since independence, and Fiji still can’t decide whether to laugh, cry, or stage another coup.
October 10, 1970, was meant to be the dawn of a new era. A proud young nation taking its first breath of self-determination, with a promise of unity, equality, and progress. Instead, 55 years later, we’ve become experts at holding flag-raising ceremonies while quietly lowering our standards of governance.
Yes, the speeches flowed, the fireworks sparkled, the national anthem trembled on the wind but behind the cheers lies a familiar undercurrent of tears.
Fiji’s independence story is no straight line of triumph. It’s a loop of hope and heartbreak, of leaders who promise democracy and deliver dynasties, of politicians who wave the Constitution one day and trample it the next.
We’ve had four constitutions, four coups, three national reconciliations (all unfinished), two “people’s governments,” and one endless identity crisis.
And here we are in 2025, led by the same political ghosts who haunted the 1980s, cheered on by those who once swore they’d never make that mistake again. Chief Justice Salesi Temo is now Acting President, not because history evolved, but because Fiji’s political class can’t stop feeding its own contradictions.
It was Fiji Day, and yes, there is pride in our endurance. We’ve survived coups, cyclones, corruption, and constitutional chaos. Our resilience is legendary. But resilience is not the same as progress.
Fifty-five years on, we still mistake survival for success. We still let those who broke the nation present themselves as its saviours. And we still believe every new leader’s promise that this time, it’ll be different.
So yes, raise the flag, sing the anthem, and shout “Happy Fiji Day!”. But remember what that flag also covers: a nation still divided by race, religion, class, vanua and political amnesia.
Because until Fiji learns that true independence means freeing ourselves from hypocrisy, fear, and recycled leaders, Fiji Day will always be a mix of cheers, fears, and crocodile tears.
October 10, 1970, was meant to be the dawn of a new era. A proud young nation taking its first breath of self-determination, with a promise of unity, equality, and progress. Instead, 55 years later, we’ve become experts at holding flag-raising ceremonies while quietly lowering our standards of governance.
Yes, the speeches flowed, the fireworks sparkled, the national anthem trembled on the wind but behind the cheers lies a familiar undercurrent of tears.
Fiji’s independence story is no straight line of triumph. It’s a loop of hope and heartbreak, of leaders who promise democracy and deliver dynasties, of politicians who wave the Constitution one day and trample it the next.
We’ve had four constitutions, four coups, three national reconciliations (all unfinished), two “people’s governments,” and one endless identity crisis.
And here we are in 2025, led by the same political ghosts who haunted the 1980s, cheered on by those who once swore they’d never make that mistake again. Chief Justice Salesi Temo is now Acting President, not because history evolved, but because Fiji’s political class can’t stop feeding its own contradictions.
It was Fiji Day, and yes, there is pride in our endurance. We’ve survived coups, cyclones, corruption, and constitutional chaos. Our resilience is legendary. But resilience is not the same as progress.
Fifty-five years on, we still mistake survival for success. We still let those who broke the nation present themselves as its saviours. And we still believe every new leader’s promise that this time, it’ll be different.
So yes, raise the flag, sing the anthem, and shout “Happy Fiji Day!”. But remember what that flag also covers: a nation still divided by race, religion, class, vanua and political amnesia.
Because until Fiji learns that true independence means freeing ourselves from hypocrisy, fear, and recycled leaders, Fiji Day will always be a mix of cheers, fears, and crocodile tears.
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