  |  |
When Information Minister Lynda Tabuya announced her bright idea that the Online Safety Commission should be absorbed into her own Ministry, one could almost hear jaws dropping across Suva. After all, what better way to promote “independence” than to bring a regulatory body under direct political control?
Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka wasted no time shooting down the proposal, and rightly so. The OSC, however imperfect, is meant to be a watchdog—not a lapdog. Its credibility rests on being separate from the very political machinery it might one day have to scrutinise. Moving it under the Ministry of Information would be like asking the fox to run the henhouse—efficient, perhaps, but disastrous for the hens.
The episode raises larger questions about how government business is being conducted. Was Rabuka briefed in advance, or was he blindsided by his own minister? Either answer is troubling. If he was not told, it signals a breakdown in cabinet discipline. If he was told and allowed the announcement only to then reject it, it suggests political theatre at the expense of public confidence.
Meanwhile, the citizens—those supposedly being “protected” by online safety laws—are left wondering whether their leaders are serious about strengthening institutions or just squabbling over who gets to control them.
The Online Safety Commission does need reform. But the solution is not to hand it over to a Ministry whose job is to spin government messages. Strengthening its independence, expanding its legal authority, and resourcing it properly would do far more for online safety than turning it into another political department.
At the very least, the episode reminds us why watchdogs need freedom from their masters. Because when politicians start designing cages, the public should be the first to worry.
The absurdity is this: the Online Safety Commission is meant to protect people online, yet its future is being fought offline by politicians who can’t even agree which ministry gets the keys to the modem.
Lynda Tabuya sought to bring the Online Safety Commission under the Ministry of Information to streamline oversight of digital communications and online conduct. Her rationale was that the Commission’s mandate aligns closely with her ministry’s responsibility for information management, public communications, and media policy.
Centralising these functions, in her view, would create more coherent regulation and allow for better coordination in addressing issues such as cyberbullying, misinformation, and online harms.
In her "Straight Talk With Vijay Narayan", she revealed that she has been “lobbying for the Online Safety Commission to come under the Ministry of Information to streamline services.” She argues the Ministry can investigate and prosecute, protect privacy rights, and give the Commission stronger enforcement powers.
From a legal perspective, this raises several red flags. The Online Safety Act 2018 created the Online Safety Commission as a separate statutory office. Its independence is deliberate: it was designed to regulate harmful online content in a way that avoids political capture.
The friendly "punch-up" between Tabuya and Rabuka may just be a stage quarrel, with Rabuka playing referee and ringmaster at the same time. It is starting to resemble shadow boxing-Rabuka throws the punches, but the outcome is already fixed. Once again, did Tabuya discuss her plan with Rabuka before 'straight-talk'- or was the 'disagreement' just part of his script?
Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka wasted no time shooting down the proposal, and rightly so. The OSC, however imperfect, is meant to be a watchdog—not a lapdog. Its credibility rests on being separate from the very political machinery it might one day have to scrutinise. Moving it under the Ministry of Information would be like asking the fox to run the henhouse—efficient, perhaps, but disastrous for the hens.
The episode raises larger questions about how government business is being conducted. Was Rabuka briefed in advance, or was he blindsided by his own minister? Either answer is troubling. If he was not told, it signals a breakdown in cabinet discipline. If he was told and allowed the announcement only to then reject it, it suggests political theatre at the expense of public confidence.
Meanwhile, the citizens—those supposedly being “protected” by online safety laws—are left wondering whether their leaders are serious about strengthening institutions or just squabbling over who gets to control them.
The Online Safety Commission does need reform. But the solution is not to hand it over to a Ministry whose job is to spin government messages. Strengthening its independence, expanding its legal authority, and resourcing it properly would do far more for online safety than turning it into another political department.
At the very least, the episode reminds us why watchdogs need freedom from their masters. Because when politicians start designing cages, the public should be the first to worry.
The absurdity is this: the Online Safety Commission is meant to protect people online, yet its future is being fought offline by politicians who can’t even agree which ministry gets the keys to the modem.
Lynda Tabuya sought to bring the Online Safety Commission under the Ministry of Information to streamline oversight of digital communications and online conduct. Her rationale was that the Commission’s mandate aligns closely with her ministry’s responsibility for information management, public communications, and media policy.
Centralising these functions, in her view, would create more coherent regulation and allow for better coordination in addressing issues such as cyberbullying, misinformation, and online harms.
In her "Straight Talk With Vijay Narayan", she revealed that she has been “lobbying for the Online Safety Commission to come under the Ministry of Information to streamline services.” She argues the Ministry can investigate and prosecute, protect privacy rights, and give the Commission stronger enforcement powers.
From a legal perspective, this raises several red flags. The Online Safety Act 2018 created the Online Safety Commission as a separate statutory office. Its independence is deliberate: it was designed to regulate harmful online content in a way that avoids political capture.
The friendly "punch-up" between Tabuya and Rabuka may just be a stage quarrel, with Rabuka playing referee and ringmaster at the same time. It is starting to resemble shadow boxing-Rabuka throws the punches, but the outcome is already fixed. Once again, did Tabuya discuss her plan with Rabuka before 'straight-talk'- or was the 'disagreement' just part of his script?
From Fijileaks Archive, 5 May 2025
CYBER BULLING: Commissioner, CUT THE CRAP. The Acting Prison Commissioner, drunk, wearing a white shirt with the Fiji Prison logo on it, was annoying young party-goers and ended up punching one of them
