"Across much of post-independence Africa, the rise of “Big Man” politics often coincided with the ethnicisation of the state. Leaders placed loyalists from their own tribe or region into key posts—not merely for trust, but to secure political dominance through institutional control. Over time, these systems became ungovernable: public office was reduced to spoils, accountability dissolved, and institutions collapsed under the weight of loyalty-based, not merit-based, appointments." |
In this climate, many citizens are beginning to ask uncomfortable but necessary questions—chief among them: has the quiet capture of state institutions along ethnic or tribal lines contributed to our current decline?
To raise this question is not to provoke division or hatred. It is to invite serious constitutional reflection on a pattern that has afflicted many post-colonial states, particularly across Africa, where political and institutional decay is often preceded by the consolidation of power along ethnic, regional, or familial lines—sometimes subtly, sometimes blatantly.
A Troubling Pattern
In Fiji, appointments to key constitutional offices—across the judiciary, law enforcement, prosecutorial bodies, and oversight commissions—have followed a pattern that is difficult to ignore. Senior positions are increasingly held by individuals from a narrow socio-ethnic band, overwhelmingly iTaukei, often with long-standing personal or political ties to the ruling elite. While ethnicity alone should never disqualify one from office, the concentration of power in any single group—without merit-based diversity—raises red flags for the health of constitutional democracy.
What is particularly shocking is the number of iTaukei individuals who were directly involved in or politically aligned with the 1987 and 2000 coups, or who materially benefitted under the racist Qarase government, who have now returned to powerful positions since the Rabuka government came to power in 2022. Many of these individuals were sidelined after the 2006 Bainimarama-led coup, which sought to dismantle ethno-nationalist politics and reshape governance along ostensibly non-racial lines. Their return not only raises concerns about political recycling and impunity, but signals a possible ideological regression—a quiet revival of the very structures that led Fiji into multiple constitutional crises.
The African Parallel
Across much of post-independence Africa, the rise of “Big Man” politics often coincided with the ethnicisation of the state. Leaders placed loyalists from their own tribe or region into key posts—not merely for trust, but to secure political dominance through institutional control. Over time, these systems became ungovernable: public office was reduced to spoils, accountability dissolved, and institutions collapsed under the weight of loyalty-based, not merit-based, appointments.
Fiji is, of course, not Africa. But the mechanisms of decline are not geographically confined. Wherever institutional power is captured by one ethnic faction—regardless of which group it is—the same problems arise: selective justice, rising impunity, the marginalisation of minorities, and the erosion of public confidence in the state.
Ethnicity Must Not Be a Shield
To speak of iTaukei dominance in the judiciary or government is not to attack the iTaukei as a people. The iTaukei have every right to occupy high office based on merit, just as Indo-Fijians, Rotumans, and other communities do. But when high office becomes dominated by one group to the exclusion of others, and when those in power appear to protect each other regardless of wrongdoing, we must ask: is this justice, or is this ethnically-coded impunity?
Constitutional democracy demands vigilance against any form of ethnic capture, whether iTaukei, Indo-Fijian, or otherwise. A truly independent judiciary must reflect not only ethnic balance but institutional courage—able to hold the powerful to account, even when they come from within.
Where Do We Go From Here?
The solution is not to pit one community against another, but to rebuild institutions on the foundations of merit, integrity, and constitutional fidelity. Judicial appointments must be transparent and competitive. Prosecutorial bodies must be empowered to act without fear or favour. Parliament must ensure diversity is reflected not as tokenism, but as a living commitment to multiracial democracy.
Fiji is still young as a constitutional state, but the warning signs are blinking. If we ignore them, we may end up as yet another cautionary tale—where tribal loyalties swallowed national vision, and where justice bowed before identity.
Let us not wait until it is too late.