SPEIGHT'S CONSTITUTIONAL PARADOX: 1997 or 2013 Constitution
Twenty-six years after overthrowing Fiji's elected government and denouncing the 1997 Constitution as inadequate for protecting indigenous iTaukei interests, George Speight has returned to the constitutional debate. In his submission to the Constitution Review Commission, he branded the 2013 Constitution "unfair and unjust", describing its immunity provisions as "a recipe for disaster". His latest intervention raises an unavoidable historical question: having rejected the 1997 Constitution and now condemning the 2013 Constitution, what constitutional order does George Speight ultimately regard as legitimate?
Twenty-six years after overthrowing Fiji's elected government and denouncing the 1997 Constitution as inadequate for protecting indigenous iTaukei interests, George Speight has returned to the constitutional debate. In his submission to the Constitution Review Commission, he branded the 2013 Constitution "unfair and unjust", describing its immunity provisions as "a recipe for disaster". His latest intervention raises an unavoidable historical question: having rejected the 1997 Constitution and now condemning the 2013 Constitution, what constitutional order does George Speight ultimately regard as legitimate?
  |  FRONTMAN: The Racist and Terrifying Face of the 2000 Coup |
"The central purpose of a Truth and Reconciliation Commission is not merely to hear expressions of regret. It is to establish, as comprehensively as possible, the historical record. That means moving beyond the public face of events to uncover how they were conceived, organised, financed and sustained. The question that has haunted Fiji since May 2000 has never been confined to George Speight himself. It has always been: who else? Who encouraged the enterprise? Who financed it? Who provided logistical support?
Who supplied intelligence? Who expected to benefit politically or economically from the overthrow of the elected government? Who worked behind the scenes while allowing Speight to become the public face of the coup?
These are not idle questions."
 SPEIGHT'S CONSTITUTIONAL PARADOX: From Rejecting the 1997 Constitution to Condemning the 2013 Constitution. |  |
George Speight now says that Fiji has "a great deal of hurt" and that he is responsible for a large part of it.
It is a significant admission. It acknowledges, albeit belatedly, the immense human, political and constitutional damage caused by the events of May 2000. Thousands of ordinary Fijians, of every race and political persuasion, continue to live with the consequences of that coup. Institutions were weakened, governments destabilised, confidence in democracy shattered and the culture of military and political intervention deepened.
An acknowledgement of responsibility is therefore welcome. But acknowledgement is not the same as accountability. Nor is remorse a substitute for truth.
The central purpose of a Truth and Reconciliation Commission is not merely to hear expressions of regret. It is to establish, as comprehensively as possible, the historical record. That means moving beyond the public face of events to uncover how they were conceived, organised, financed and sustained.
The question that has haunted Fiji since May 2000 has never been confined to George Speight himself. It has always been: who else?
Who encouraged the enterprise? Who financed it? Who provided logistical support?
Who supplied intelligence? Who expected to benefit politically or economically from the overthrow of the elected government? Who worked behind the scenes while allowing Speight to become the public face of the coup?
These are not idle questions. They are questions that have occupied journalists, academics, lawyers, investigators and ordinary citizens for more than a quarter of a century.
Many participants have died. Others have faded from public life. Documents have disappeared. Memories have become less reliable.
Every year that passes makes the task of establishing the truth more difficult. That is precisely why testimony before the Truth and Reconciliation Commission matters.
A private apology or carefully crafted public statement cannot answer those larger questions.
Only a detailed examination of evidence, and the willingness of those who participated to tell the whole story, can do that. No serious student of Fiji's constitutional history believes that the 2000 coup was simply the work of one individual acting in isolation.
Large political upheavals rarely occur that way.
History teaches us that coups involve networks: political allies, financiers, sympathisers, organisers and opportunists. Some play visible roles. Others remain in the shadows. Some emerge years later. Others never do.
Whether such individuals existed in relation to the 2000 coup, and what role they may have played, are precisely the kinds of issues that deserve careful examination based on evidence rather than rumour.
That is why the Truth and Reconciliation Commission carries such an important responsibility. It is not a court. Its purpose is not to secure convictions. Its responsibility is to establish as complete a historical record as possible.
That record should not stop with the men who occupied Parliament. It should extend to everyone who may have encouraged, supported or facilitated the events that unfolded.
Truth commissions around the world have demonstrated that national reconciliation depends upon disclosure rather than selective memory.
Victims deserve more than expressions of sorrow. They deserve answers. Future generations deserve more than simplified narratives. They deserve documented history.
Fiji, perhaps more than most countries, understands the cost of leaving difficult questions unresolved.
The coups of 1987, 2000 and 2006 were not isolated constitutional accidents.
Each altered the political landscape. Each reshaped institutions. Each influenced those that followed. Each left unanswered questions that continue to divide opinion decades later.
One of the greatest dangers confronting any truth commission is the temptation to settle for partial truth. Partial truth is often politically convenient. It is rarely historically satisfactory.
If key witnesses choose not to participate, that is, of course, their legal right. No one should be compelled to incriminate themselves beyond the limits of the law.
But history will inevitably record not only what they admitted, but also what they chose not to explain.
The Commission should therefore continue gathering documentary evidence, hearing other witnesses, examining official records and testing competing accounts. No single witness should become the gatekeeper of Fiji's history.
Equally, if George Speight ultimately decides to appear before the Commission, he has an opportunity that very few people are ever given. He can help complete the historical record. He can explain decisions that have remained unexplained for twenty-six years. He can clarify relationships that have long been debated. He can distinguish fact from myth. He can answer questions that countless victims, families and citizens have carried for a generation.
Whether he chooses to do so is ultimately his decision. But the Commission's responsibility remains unchanged. It must pursue the truth wherever the evidence leads. Because reconciliation built upon incomplete truth is fragile.
Justice built upon selective memory is uncertain.
And history written without the courage to ask difficult questions is not history at all. For Fiji to move forward with confidence, the nation requires not merely remorse from those who shaped its darkest chapters, but the fullest possible account of how those chapters came to be written.
It is a significant admission. It acknowledges, albeit belatedly, the immense human, political and constitutional damage caused by the events of May 2000. Thousands of ordinary Fijians, of every race and political persuasion, continue to live with the consequences of that coup. Institutions were weakened, governments destabilised, confidence in democracy shattered and the culture of military and political intervention deepened.
An acknowledgement of responsibility is therefore welcome. But acknowledgement is not the same as accountability. Nor is remorse a substitute for truth.
The central purpose of a Truth and Reconciliation Commission is not merely to hear expressions of regret. It is to establish, as comprehensively as possible, the historical record. That means moving beyond the public face of events to uncover how they were conceived, organised, financed and sustained.
The question that has haunted Fiji since May 2000 has never been confined to George Speight himself. It has always been: who else?
Who encouraged the enterprise? Who financed it? Who provided logistical support?
Who supplied intelligence? Who expected to benefit politically or economically from the overthrow of the elected government? Who worked behind the scenes while allowing Speight to become the public face of the coup?
These are not idle questions. They are questions that have occupied journalists, academics, lawyers, investigators and ordinary citizens for more than a quarter of a century.
Many participants have died. Others have faded from public life. Documents have disappeared. Memories have become less reliable.
Every year that passes makes the task of establishing the truth more difficult. That is precisely why testimony before the Truth and Reconciliation Commission matters.
A private apology or carefully crafted public statement cannot answer those larger questions.
Only a detailed examination of evidence, and the willingness of those who participated to tell the whole story, can do that. No serious student of Fiji's constitutional history believes that the 2000 coup was simply the work of one individual acting in isolation.
Large political upheavals rarely occur that way.
History teaches us that coups involve networks: political allies, financiers, sympathisers, organisers and opportunists. Some play visible roles. Others remain in the shadows. Some emerge years later. Others never do.
Whether such individuals existed in relation to the 2000 coup, and what role they may have played, are precisely the kinds of issues that deserve careful examination based on evidence rather than rumour.
That is why the Truth and Reconciliation Commission carries such an important responsibility. It is not a court. Its purpose is not to secure convictions. Its responsibility is to establish as complete a historical record as possible.
That record should not stop with the men who occupied Parliament. It should extend to everyone who may have encouraged, supported or facilitated the events that unfolded.
Truth commissions around the world have demonstrated that national reconciliation depends upon disclosure rather than selective memory.
Victims deserve more than expressions of sorrow. They deserve answers. Future generations deserve more than simplified narratives. They deserve documented history.
Fiji, perhaps more than most countries, understands the cost of leaving difficult questions unresolved.
The coups of 1987, 2000 and 2006 were not isolated constitutional accidents.
Each altered the political landscape. Each reshaped institutions. Each influenced those that followed. Each left unanswered questions that continue to divide opinion decades later.
One of the greatest dangers confronting any truth commission is the temptation to settle for partial truth. Partial truth is often politically convenient. It is rarely historically satisfactory.
If key witnesses choose not to participate, that is, of course, their legal right. No one should be compelled to incriminate themselves beyond the limits of the law.
But history will inevitably record not only what they admitted, but also what they chose not to explain.
The Commission should therefore continue gathering documentary evidence, hearing other witnesses, examining official records and testing competing accounts. No single witness should become the gatekeeper of Fiji's history.
Equally, if George Speight ultimately decides to appear before the Commission, he has an opportunity that very few people are ever given. He can help complete the historical record. He can explain decisions that have remained unexplained for twenty-six years. He can clarify relationships that have long been debated. He can distinguish fact from myth. He can answer questions that countless victims, families and citizens have carried for a generation.
Whether he chooses to do so is ultimately his decision. But the Commission's responsibility remains unchanged. It must pursue the truth wherever the evidence leads. Because reconciliation built upon incomplete truth is fragile.
Justice built upon selective memory is uncertain.
And history written without the courage to ask difficult questions is not history at all. For Fiji to move forward with confidence, the nation requires not merely remorse from those who shaped its darkest chapters, but the fullest possible account of how those chapters came to be written.
 Dr Anirudh Singh |  |
From Fijileaks Archives, 14 June 2014
From Fijileaks Archive, 25 July 2014
 |  |
Excerpt from Victor Lal: Fiji: Coups in Paradise - Race, Politics and Military Intervention:
"Ratu Inoke Kubuabola told Islands Business magazine of May 1988 that for more than six hours on April 19 he and Rabuka, later joined by Jone Veisamasama, 'talked about different options'. It was on 19 April that the groundwork for the coup was laid and according to Kubuabola, 11 May was the day his co-conspirators decided to proceed with its execution. He also claims that when it was learnt that Parliament would not sit on Friday they had agreed to bring forward the coup to Thursday.
Another crucial intermediary between the Taukei Movement and the military, the Rev Tomasi Raikivi, provided his house in Suva as a centre for overall planning. Thus it was there that Rabuka met the other conspirators on Easter Monday, nine days after the defeat of the Alliance Party.
We will let Rabuka explain the rest, as he did to Eddie Dean and Stan Ritova in his infamous autobiography No Other Way. He went to Rev Raikivi's for, ' … What he understood was an ordinary 'grog' party. It was early evening, and he just walked in, as he normally would, throwing his 'sevusevu' of yagona towards the bowl where the 'grog' was being mixed. 'I saw all these people sitting down, and realised it was some kind of a meeting. Some of the people greeted me, although I could not see everyone clearly because it was fairly dark in the lounge-room. Nobody asked me to leave.' When his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he discovered the gathering was 'quite a formidable group'.
He says it included Ratu Finau Mara, Ratu George Kadavulevu, Ratu Inoke Kubuabola, Ratu Keni Viuyasawa, the brother of Brigadier Epeli Nailatikau, Filipe Bole, Ratu Jo Ritova of Labasa, Ratu Jale Ratum, 'Big Dan' Veitata, and the host Raikivi. Another leading light at this meeting was Apisai Tora.''
"Ratu Inoke Kubuabola told Islands Business magazine of May 1988 that for more than six hours on April 19 he and Rabuka, later joined by Jone Veisamasama, 'talked about different options'. It was on 19 April that the groundwork for the coup was laid and according to Kubuabola, 11 May was the day his co-conspirators decided to proceed with its execution. He also claims that when it was learnt that Parliament would not sit on Friday they had agreed to bring forward the coup to Thursday.
Another crucial intermediary between the Taukei Movement and the military, the Rev Tomasi Raikivi, provided his house in Suva as a centre for overall planning. Thus it was there that Rabuka met the other conspirators on Easter Monday, nine days after the defeat of the Alliance Party.
We will let Rabuka explain the rest, as he did to Eddie Dean and Stan Ritova in his infamous autobiography No Other Way. He went to Rev Raikivi's for, ' … What he understood was an ordinary 'grog' party. It was early evening, and he just walked in, as he normally would, throwing his 'sevusevu' of yagona towards the bowl where the 'grog' was being mixed. 'I saw all these people sitting down, and realised it was some kind of a meeting. Some of the people greeted me, although I could not see everyone clearly because it was fairly dark in the lounge-room. Nobody asked me to leave.' When his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he discovered the gathering was 'quite a formidable group'.
He says it included Ratu Finau Mara, Ratu George Kadavulevu, Ratu Inoke Kubuabola, Ratu Keni Viuyasawa, the brother of Brigadier Epeli Nailatikau, Filipe Bole, Ratu Jo Ritova of Labasa, Ratu Jale Ratum, 'Big Dan' Veitata, and the host Raikivi. Another leading light at this meeting was Apisai Tora.''
CRYING AS THE GALLOWS LOOMED: GEORGE SPEIGHT WEPT AS HE WAS SENTENCED TO DEATH FOR TREASON
In February 2002, it fell to Justice Michael Scott to sentence failed coup leader George Speight to death for treason.
After placing the traditional black silk cap over his judicial wig, Justice Scott pronounced the sentence:
"George Speight, the sentence of the court upon you is that you be taken from this place to a lawful prison and thence to a place of execution and that you there suffer death by hanging, and may the Lord have mercy upon your soul."
The events of May 2000 have been an unmitigated catastrophe for Fiji, but also for you. By pleading guilty you have done the right thing, and I am certain you will be given credit for the course you have taken. I have no option but to pass the sentence laid down by law."
Yesterday's self-styled nationalist and macho strongman, George Speight, broke down and wept uncontrollably even before the sentence was formally delivered. He was immediately escorted from the courtroom after the proceedings.
However, Speight never faced the gallows. Within hours, the death sentence was commuted to life imprisonment by President Josefa Iloilo.
The Attorney-General, Qoriniasi Bale, later told waiting journalists: "We convened a special meeting of the Prerogative of Mercy Commission and, after considering all relevant factors, advised the President to commute the death penalty imposed on George Speight to one of life imprisonment."
Bale said one of the principal considerations was the security of the nation, amid fears that carrying out the execution could trigger further unrest.
In February 2002, it fell to Justice Michael Scott to sentence failed coup leader George Speight to death for treason.
After placing the traditional black silk cap over his judicial wig, Justice Scott pronounced the sentence:
"George Speight, the sentence of the court upon you is that you be taken from this place to a lawful prison and thence to a place of execution and that you there suffer death by hanging, and may the Lord have mercy upon your soul."
The events of May 2000 have been an unmitigated catastrophe for Fiji, but also for you. By pleading guilty you have done the right thing, and I am certain you will be given credit for the course you have taken. I have no option but to pass the sentence laid down by law."
Yesterday's self-styled nationalist and macho strongman, George Speight, broke down and wept uncontrollably even before the sentence was formally delivered. He was immediately escorted from the courtroom after the proceedings.
However, Speight never faced the gallows. Within hours, the death sentence was commuted to life imprisonment by President Josefa Iloilo.
The Attorney-General, Qoriniasi Bale, later told waiting journalists: "We convened a special meeting of the Prerogative of Mercy Commission and, after considering all relevant factors, advised the President to commute the death penalty imposed on George Speight to one of life imprisonment."
Bale said one of the principal considerations was the security of the nation, amid fears that carrying out the execution could trigger further unrest.
1981: Victor Lal with Chief Registrar Michael Scott, Who Later as Fiji High Court Judge, Pronounced the Court's Death Sentence on George Speight for Treason
