*Fiji's future, if it is to be reconciled, democratic, and genuinely modern, must never again be held hostage by a traditional institution whose power flows from mystique rather than mandate.
*If the RFMF had been a truly multiracial institution, a force where Indo-Fijians and every other community stood shoulder-to-shoulder in equal numbers at the Queen Elizabeth barracks, the mataganisau would never have been meekly surrendered to the Great Council of Chiefs.
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FRANKLY speaking: Bainimarama Didn’t Crush the GCC. He Deflated a Balloon That Had Been Floating on Borrowed Air
For decades, the Great Council of Chiefs did not merely advise; it dictated, overruled, and cornered elected governments. It hovered above the constitution like an unelected senate of high priests, sanctified by tradition, weaponised by politics, and drunk on its own mythology of indispensability.
Governments came and went, but one rule remained unspoken:
“Displease the GCC at your peril.”
It was the ultimate backstage veto power.
The GCC mastered a peculiar form of political hostage-taking: never overtly unconstitutional, just implicitly untouchable. Governments were forced to navigate around it the way mariners plot their course around reefs, dangerous if you pretend they’re not there.
The Myth of Traditional Authority vs. The Reality of Political Interference
For years, Fijian politics danced to a tune beaten on the lali inside GCC chambers. Not written in any constitution, not codified in any democratic charter but powerful precisely because its influence was unofficial, amorphous, and resistant to scrutiny.
And then, in 2006, Bainimarama walked in and yanked the plug.
The chiefs who spent decades assuming they were Fiji’s conscience suddenly found themselves back under mango trees, "drinking homebrew", reminiscing about the era when prime ministers trembled at their summons.
Bainimarama’s Calculated Gambit
Critics claim it was authoritarian. Supporters claim it was revolutionary. But what it undeniably did was break the stranglehold of an unelected elite over a modern state.
He dismantled the myth that the GCC was an eternal pillar of stability. He exposed its dependence on political patronage and nationalist agitation. He forced Fiji to confront a hard truth: a democracy cannot function with two centres of sovereignty, one elected, one hereditary, one modern, one frozen in time.
After the GCC was abolished, something extraordinary happened:
In fact, many provincial dynamics improved because development was no longer bottlenecked by chiefly politics.
Why the GCC’s Return Today Can’t Be a Return to Yesterday
The GCC that once held Fiji hostage is gone, not because Bainimarama banned it, but because its era has expired. The Fiji of 2025 is different:
The RFMF’s press release, though diplomatic, is a quiet warning: "No institution, traditional or otherwise, will again play puppeteer to Fiji’s future."
The RFMF is signaling that Fiji’s reconciliation must be built on accountability, not nostalgic power structures.
The Real Legacy: A Fiji Freed from Cultural Hostage-Taking
Whatever one thinks of Bainimarama (Fijileaks editor has been his staunchest critic since 2006), and there are many reasons to critique him, his dismantling of the GCC was the most democratically consequential act since independence.
He ended the era where governments whispered in fear of men (and a few token women) who believed birthright outranked ballot boxes. He ended the era of veiled threats hidden behind kava bowls and ceremonial pronouncements. He ended the political monopoly of a few elite families who used tradition as leverage while everyday iTaukei people struggled for genuine economic empowerment.
And he proved that Fiji could stand on its own feet without a chiefly safety net that never truly protected anyone except itself.
In the final measure, the RFMF press release attempts to turn a page. But Fiji cannot understand the page it turns unless it understands the chapter that preceded it.
And the truth is this:
Until Bainimarama sent them packing, not to exile, not to prison, but back to village roots, under mango trees, tasting the same homebrew as the people they once claimed to lead.
And in doing so, he shattered the illusion that Fiji needed overlords in mats and regalia to survive.
Fiji’s future, if it is to be reconciled, democratic, and genuinely modern, must never again be held hostage by the Great Council of Chiefs whose power flows from mystique rather than mandate.
For decades, the Great Council of Chiefs did not merely advise; it dictated, overruled, and cornered elected governments. It hovered above the constitution like an unelected senate of high priests, sanctified by tradition, weaponised by politics, and drunk on its own mythology of indispensability.
Governments came and went, but one rule remained unspoken:
“Displease the GCC at your peril.”
It was the ultimate backstage veto power.
- When Rabuka needed legitimacy after the 1987 coups, he trotted to the GCC like a prodigal son seeking benediction.
- When Qarase needed nationalist fuel, the GCC delivered it in drums.
- When Chaudhry sought to govern, the GCC’s silence became its message, and its silence became permission for extremism to bloom.
- When the SDL government wanted ethno-centric bills, the GCC stood as the ceremonial ornament lending cultural gravitas to political exclusion.
The GCC mastered a peculiar form of political hostage-taking: never overtly unconstitutional, just implicitly untouchable. Governments were forced to navigate around it the way mariners plot their course around reefs, dangerous if you pretend they’re not there.
The Myth of Traditional Authority vs. The Reality of Political Interference
For years, Fijian politics danced to a tune beaten on the lali inside GCC chambers. Not written in any constitution, not codified in any democratic charter but powerful precisely because its influence was unofficial, amorphous, and resistant to scrutiny.
And then, in 2006, Bainimarama walked in and yanked the plug.
- No negotiation.
- No apology.
- No ceremonial farewell.
- Just: “You’re done.”
The chiefs who spent decades assuming they were Fiji’s conscience suddenly found themselves back under mango trees, "drinking homebrew", reminiscing about the era when prime ministers trembled at their summons.
Bainimarama’s Calculated Gambit
Critics claim it was authoritarian. Supporters claim it was revolutionary. But what it undeniably did was break the stranglehold of an unelected elite over a modern state.
He dismantled the myth that the GCC was an eternal pillar of stability. He exposed its dependence on political patronage and nationalist agitation. He forced Fiji to confront a hard truth: a democracy cannot function with two centres of sovereignty, one elected, one hereditary, one modern, one frozen in time.
After the GCC was abolished, something extraordinary happened:
- Fiji did not collapse.
- Civilization did not end.
- Villages did not descend into chaos.
In fact, many provincial dynamics improved because development was no longer bottlenecked by chiefly politics.
Why the GCC’s Return Today Can’t Be a Return to Yesterday
The GCC that once held Fiji hostage is gone, not because Bainimarama banned it, but because its era has expired. The Fiji of 2025 is different:
- Urban, multi-ethnic, digitally literate.
- Tired of political games hidden behind traditional ceremony.
- Wary of unelected power centres dressed in cultural sanctity.
The RFMF’s press release, though diplomatic, is a quiet warning: "No institution, traditional or otherwise, will again play puppeteer to Fiji’s future."
The RFMF is signaling that Fiji’s reconciliation must be built on accountability, not nostalgic power structures.
The Real Legacy: A Fiji Freed from Cultural Hostage-Taking
Whatever one thinks of Bainimarama (Fijileaks editor has been his staunchest critic since 2006), and there are many reasons to critique him, his dismantling of the GCC was the most democratically consequential act since independence.
He ended the era where governments whispered in fear of men (and a few token women) who believed birthright outranked ballot boxes. He ended the era of veiled threats hidden behind kava bowls and ceremonial pronouncements. He ended the political monopoly of a few elite families who used tradition as leverage while everyday iTaukei people struggled for genuine economic empowerment.
And he proved that Fiji could stand on its own feet without a chiefly safety net that never truly protected anyone except itself.
In the final measure, the RFMF press release attempts to turn a page. But Fiji cannot understand the page it turns unless it understands the chapter that preceded it.
And the truth is this:
- The GCC did not guide Fiji; it constrained it.
- It did not safeguard Fijian unity; it fossilized it.
- It did not protect democracy; it overshadowed it.
Until Bainimarama sent them packing, not to exile, not to prison, but back to village roots, under mango trees, tasting the same homebrew as the people they once claimed to lead.
And in doing so, he shattered the illusion that Fiji needed overlords in mats and regalia to survive.
Fiji’s future, if it is to be reconciled, democratic, and genuinely modern, must never again be held hostage by the Great Council of Chiefs whose power flows from mystique rather than mandate.
When a Single-Ethnic Military Bows to a Single-Ethnic Council
If the RFMF had been a truly multiracial institution, a force where Indo-Fijians, and every other community stood shoulder-to-shoulder in equal numbers, the mataganisau would never have been meekly surrendered to the Great Council of Chiefs.
The truth is blunt
The RFMF’s historical composition made it susceptible to cultural pressure, chiefly symbolism, and the quiet coercion of “vanua loyalty” dressed as national duty. When your military reflects only one segment of the nation, its instincts bend toward the guardians of that segment’s traditional hierarchy.
That is how the GCC, an unelected body, was able for decades to treat national sovereignty like a family heirloom because the armed institution sworn to protect the Republic was emotionally and culturally wired to defer. Even the concept of the mataganisau, a sacred, solemn responsibility, was treated not as a state obligation but as a traditional rite to be performed upon command, without interrogation, without question, and without the balancing presence of other communities to say: “Hold on, this is not the business of chiefs. This is the business of a nation.”
A multiracial RFMF would have brought multiple cultural worldviews into the barracks; it would have diluted the grip of chiefly authority; it would have forced decisions to be weighed by constitutional principles, not vanua expectations.
Instead, Fiji inherited a military that mirrored one community’s social architecture, and the GCC took full advantage. That is how tradition slipped into the cockpit of state power, how the mataganisau slid from a national duty into a cultural performance, and how governments found themselves boxed in by an institution that could not imagine saying “no” to chiefly supremacy.
Fiji’s great challenge is not simply to reform institutions but to ensure they belong to all its people, not just those who share a bloodline with its ghosts.
The truth is blunt
The RFMF’s historical composition made it susceptible to cultural pressure, chiefly symbolism, and the quiet coercion of “vanua loyalty” dressed as national duty. When your military reflects only one segment of the nation, its instincts bend toward the guardians of that segment’s traditional hierarchy.
That is how the GCC, an unelected body, was able for decades to treat national sovereignty like a family heirloom because the armed institution sworn to protect the Republic was emotionally and culturally wired to defer. Even the concept of the mataganisau, a sacred, solemn responsibility, was treated not as a state obligation but as a traditional rite to be performed upon command, without interrogation, without question, and without the balancing presence of other communities to say: “Hold on, this is not the business of chiefs. This is the business of a nation.”
A multiracial RFMF would have brought multiple cultural worldviews into the barracks; it would have diluted the grip of chiefly authority; it would have forced decisions to be weighed by constitutional principles, not vanua expectations.
Instead, Fiji inherited a military that mirrored one community’s social architecture, and the GCC took full advantage. That is how tradition slipped into the cockpit of state power, how the mataganisau slid from a national duty into a cultural performance, and how governments found themselves boxed in by an institution that could not imagine saying “no” to chiefly supremacy.
Fiji’s great challenge is not simply to reform institutions but to ensure they belong to all its people, not just those who share a bloodline with its ghosts.
The Republic of Fiji Military Forces (RFMF) issues a carefully crafted message (see below) reaffirming its commitment to national reconciliation, transparency, accountability and, most importantly civilian supremacy.
Key points:
Key points:
- The RFMF “hears public concerns” about the reconciliation process.
- It admits the institution has a heavy historical burden, but declares it will not “remain prisoners of its past.”
- It commits to honesty about past actions, without trying to evade accountability.
- It stresses that reconciliation is not about avoiding legal processes.
- It reasserts its duty to uphold civilian supremacy and shed any perception of military intimidation.
- It invokes Nelson Mandela’s quote about freedom and mutual respect.
- Major General Jone Kalouniwai signs off, pledging integrity and service to all Fijians.
The RFMF's submission to the YASH GHAI Commission on the GCC
ITAUKEI Culture Treasured for Centuries, Apparently Too Fragile To Survive One Afternoon Dance
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