On the Meaning of ‘Fijian’: A Civic Name, Not an Ethnic Possession
The term ‘Fijian’ ought, in any modern constitutional sense, to function no differently from labels such as ‘British’, ‘Australian’, ‘American’, ‘Indian’, or ‘Canadian’.
Each of these designations operates as a civic identity, signifying citizenship, belonging, and participation in a shared political and social order, rather than as an exclusive ethnic claim. Within those national frameworks, diversity is neither denied nor erased; it is recognised through hyphenated or descriptive sub-identities such as African-American, British-Asian, or Indo-Fijian, which acknowledge heritage without displacing the overarching national identity.
To insist that ‘Fijian’ be reserved for a single ethnic group is therefore to depart from the logic of modern nationhood and to revert to a pre-civic understanding of identity rooted in ancestry rather than citizenship.
It conflates the state with one community, rather than accommodating all communities within the state. The more coherent and globally consistent approach is to recognise ‘Fijian’ as the inclusive civic identity of all who belong to Fiji, while allowing cultural, ethnic, and historical distinctions to be expressed where necessary, and through hyphenated forms such as ‘Indo-Fijian’ or ‘iTaukei Fijian’.
In this sense, the debate is not about erasing identity, but about ordering it: placing shared national belonging at the centre, and particular identities alongside it, rather than in competition with it.
The term ‘Fijian’ ought, in any modern constitutional sense, to function no differently from labels such as ‘British’, ‘Australian’, ‘American’, ‘Indian’, or ‘Canadian’.
Each of these designations operates as a civic identity, signifying citizenship, belonging, and participation in a shared political and social order, rather than as an exclusive ethnic claim. Within those national frameworks, diversity is neither denied nor erased; it is recognised through hyphenated or descriptive sub-identities such as African-American, British-Asian, or Indo-Fijian, which acknowledge heritage without displacing the overarching national identity.
To insist that ‘Fijian’ be reserved for a single ethnic group is therefore to depart from the logic of modern nationhood and to revert to a pre-civic understanding of identity rooted in ancestry rather than citizenship.
It conflates the state with one community, rather than accommodating all communities within the state. The more coherent and globally consistent approach is to recognise ‘Fijian’ as the inclusive civic identity of all who belong to Fiji, while allowing cultural, ethnic, and historical distinctions to be expressed where necessary, and through hyphenated forms such as ‘Indo-Fijian’ or ‘iTaukei Fijian’.
In this sense, the debate is not about erasing identity, but about ordering it: placing shared national belonging at the centre, and particular identities alongside it, rather than in competition with it.
| From the Fairways of Augusta: When Vijay Singh Was Simply ‘Fijian’ GOLFER On the global stage of golf, Vijay Singh was never introduced as an ‘Indo-Fijian golfer’. He was, quite simply, ‘the Fijian’, a description used matter-of-factly in international coverage, including during his Masters triumph when he defeated Tiger Woods at the height of his powers. In that moment, identity was neither hyphenated nor contested. It was civic, national, and unqualified. The world did not pause to dissect ancestry; it recognised the country he represented: FIJI. The irony, of course, lies in the contrast with Fiji’s own internal debates, where the very label so effortlessly applied abroad remains fiercely disputed at home.   |   Vijay Singh during his induction ceremony at the World Golf Hall of Fame and he watches as his son raises his country’s flag during the same event in St Augustine, Florida in 2006. Composite: Getty Images; PGA Tour   |
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‘We Are All Fijians’: MANOA Kamikamica’s Intervention in a Fractured National Debate
The recent remarks by Manoa Kamikamica that Indo-Fijians ‘are our brothers and sisters, and they are Fijian’ amount to more than a gesture of seasonal goodwill.
They are a deliberate political intervention into one of Fiji’s most enduring and combustible questions: who has the right to call themselves ‘Fijian’, and on what terms.
In his statement, Kamikamica advances a straightforward but historically loaded proposition. Indo-Fijians, he argues, were brought to Fiji involuntarily, have made the country their home, and have contributed across all sectors, from sport to government. They ‘know no other place’, and therefore belong fully within the national identity.
More revealing, however, is his personal reflection. He acknowledges that in his youth, ‘to be Fijian was to be iTaukei’, a view shaped by upbringing, economic anxieties, and entrenched prejudice. His evolution over ‘35 years’ signals not merely an individual shift but an attempt to reframe a generational mindset.
A Language War Disguised as Identity
At the core of Kamikamica’s intervention lies a linguistic question with constitutional implications: should ‘Fijian’ denote an ethnic identity (iTaukei), or a civic one (all citizens)? His rhetorical question - ‘does it make a difference?’ - is itself strategic. It seeks to collapse a distinction that, in Fiji’s political history, has been fiercely guarded.
Yet this is precisely where his remarks intersect with the current constitutional and political debate. Recent submissions in favour of restoring ethnically bounded terminology, reserving ‘Fijian’ exclusively for indigenous iTaukei, have re-opened a fault line many believed had been settled, at least formally, under the 2013 constitutional order.
Kamikamica’s analogy, asking whether Christians are divided into ethnic sub-categories, attempts to elevate the debate into a moral register. It is an appeal to universality, implicitly challenging ethnically bounded nationalism.
Historical Memory and Political Anxiety
The force of Kamikamica’s statement derives from its implicit confrontation with Fiji’s historical anxieties. His reference to ‘economic dominance of Indians’ gestures towards a long-standing narrative within sections of the iTaukei community that political control must offset perceived economic imbalance.
This narrative has repeatedly shaped constitutional arrangements, from communal voting systems to the post-1987 constitutional order, and continues to animate contemporary calls for the restoration of indigenous political primacy. In that sense, Kamikamica is not merely advocating inclusion; he is challenging a foundational justification for ethnic exclusivity.
His acknowledgment that earlier attitudes were rooted ‘partly [in] insecurity’ is unusually candid for a serving political figure. It reframes the Indo-Fijian presence not as a threat but as an integral component of the national story, one that cannot be disentangled without unravelling Fiji itself.
Between Civic Nationalism and Ethno-National Revival
Placed within the present debate over constitutional reform, Kamikamica’s remarks align squarely with the civic nationalism embedded, at least formally, in the 2013 Constitution, which sought to standardise the term ‘Fijian’ for all citizens.
However, the resurgence of calls to revert to earlier constitutional frameworks, where ethnic identity structured political representation, signals a counter-movement. In that context, Kamikamica’s statement reads as both defensive and aspirational: defensive in resisting a rollback to ethnic labelling, and aspirational in imagining a genuinely shared national identity.
The difficulty, of course, lies in the gap between rhetoric and political reality. The very persistence of this debate suggests that the civic conception of ‘Fijian’ has not fully displaced its ethnic antecedent. For many, the term remains inseparable from indigenous identity, land ownership, and chiefly authority.
An Easter Message or a Political Line in the Sand?
Kamikamica frames his remarks in the language of Easter - unity, grace, and reflection.
Yet beneath this moral veneer lies a clear political positioning. By insisting that Indo-Fijians ‘belong here’ and are indistinguishable in national terms, he implicitly rejects proposals that would re-ethnicise the state.
Whether this marks a broader shift within government thinking, or merely an individual intervention, remains to be seen. What is clear is that the statement has landed at a moment when Fiji is once again negotiating the boundaries of identity, citizenship, and power.
In that sense, Kamikamica’s words revive an older, unresolved question, one that has haunted Fiji since independence: is the nation to be defined by ancestry, or by shared belonging?
His answer is unequivocal. The country, he suggests, has already moved on. The question is whether its politics will follow.
EDITOR'S NOTE: As Editor of Fijileaks, I add a personal note to this intervention. I was a close friend of his father Josevata Kamikamica (RIP) and had actively campaigned during the 1994 general election, for him (JK), not coupist Sitiveni Rabuka, to assume the office of Prime Minister. That moment, too, turned on questions of legitimacy, leadership, and the direction of the nation.
In 1994, Josevata Kamikamica formed the Fijian Association Party (FAP) to challenge Rabuka and the Great Council of Chiefs-endorsed SVT in that year’s general election. I supported him through my opinion columns in the Fiji Sun. The FAP enjoyed tacit backing from Ratu Sir Kamisese Mara, who had openly expressed his support for Kamikamica’s premiership at the Great Council of Chiefs meeting.
However, Mara was outvoted, partly by Rabuka’s politicised nominees on the Council. The SVT, for its part, accused Kamikamica of facilitating a return of political power to Indo-Fijians. In a strategic misstep, Kamikamica announced that he would form a coalition government with Indo-Fijian parties if he won the 1994 election, a position that played directly into the hands of SVT nationalists. He ultimately lost his own parliamentary seat, despite having campaigned on restoring integrity and dignity to Fijian leadership.
I do not know Manoa Kamikamica personally. My only direct encounter, albeit indirectly, arose after the 2022 election when he entered office under Rabuka’s leadership. At that time, Fijileaks, acting as a responsible investigative platform, made inquiries into circulating social media claims as to whether his wife had accompanied him to New Zealand at taxpayers’ expense. Rather than clarification, the response conveyed was a threat of legal action.
This is not recounted to personalise the present debate but to underscore a broader point. Public office carries with it not only the authority to speak on national unity but also the obligation to engage transparently with legitimate scrutiny. One cannot, on the one hand, call for a shared national identity grounded in mutual respect and, on the other, resist reasonable questions posed in the public interest.
That said, Manoa Kamikamica’s present remarks deserve to be assessed on their own merit. In affirming that Indo-Fijians are ‘our brothers and sisters’ and fully ‘Fijian’, he has articulated a position that, if consistently upheld in both word and conduct, would mark a meaningful departure from the exclusionary impulses that have too often defined Fiji’s political past.
The recent remarks by Manoa Kamikamica that Indo-Fijians ‘are our brothers and sisters, and they are Fijian’ amount to more than a gesture of seasonal goodwill.
They are a deliberate political intervention into one of Fiji’s most enduring and combustible questions: who has the right to call themselves ‘Fijian’, and on what terms.
In his statement, Kamikamica advances a straightforward but historically loaded proposition. Indo-Fijians, he argues, were brought to Fiji involuntarily, have made the country their home, and have contributed across all sectors, from sport to government. They ‘know no other place’, and therefore belong fully within the national identity.
More revealing, however, is his personal reflection. He acknowledges that in his youth, ‘to be Fijian was to be iTaukei’, a view shaped by upbringing, economic anxieties, and entrenched prejudice. His evolution over ‘35 years’ signals not merely an individual shift but an attempt to reframe a generational mindset.
A Language War Disguised as Identity
At the core of Kamikamica’s intervention lies a linguistic question with constitutional implications: should ‘Fijian’ denote an ethnic identity (iTaukei), or a civic one (all citizens)? His rhetorical question - ‘does it make a difference?’ - is itself strategic. It seeks to collapse a distinction that, in Fiji’s political history, has been fiercely guarded.
Yet this is precisely where his remarks intersect with the current constitutional and political debate. Recent submissions in favour of restoring ethnically bounded terminology, reserving ‘Fijian’ exclusively for indigenous iTaukei, have re-opened a fault line many believed had been settled, at least formally, under the 2013 constitutional order.
Kamikamica’s analogy, asking whether Christians are divided into ethnic sub-categories, attempts to elevate the debate into a moral register. It is an appeal to universality, implicitly challenging ethnically bounded nationalism.
Historical Memory and Political Anxiety
The force of Kamikamica’s statement derives from its implicit confrontation with Fiji’s historical anxieties. His reference to ‘economic dominance of Indians’ gestures towards a long-standing narrative within sections of the iTaukei community that political control must offset perceived economic imbalance.
This narrative has repeatedly shaped constitutional arrangements, from communal voting systems to the post-1987 constitutional order, and continues to animate contemporary calls for the restoration of indigenous political primacy. In that sense, Kamikamica is not merely advocating inclusion; he is challenging a foundational justification for ethnic exclusivity.
His acknowledgment that earlier attitudes were rooted ‘partly [in] insecurity’ is unusually candid for a serving political figure. It reframes the Indo-Fijian presence not as a threat but as an integral component of the national story, one that cannot be disentangled without unravelling Fiji itself.
Between Civic Nationalism and Ethno-National Revival
Placed within the present debate over constitutional reform, Kamikamica’s remarks align squarely with the civic nationalism embedded, at least formally, in the 2013 Constitution, which sought to standardise the term ‘Fijian’ for all citizens.
However, the resurgence of calls to revert to earlier constitutional frameworks, where ethnic identity structured political representation, signals a counter-movement. In that context, Kamikamica’s statement reads as both defensive and aspirational: defensive in resisting a rollback to ethnic labelling, and aspirational in imagining a genuinely shared national identity.
The difficulty, of course, lies in the gap between rhetoric and political reality. The very persistence of this debate suggests that the civic conception of ‘Fijian’ has not fully displaced its ethnic antecedent. For many, the term remains inseparable from indigenous identity, land ownership, and chiefly authority.
An Easter Message or a Political Line in the Sand?
Kamikamica frames his remarks in the language of Easter - unity, grace, and reflection.
Yet beneath this moral veneer lies a clear political positioning. By insisting that Indo-Fijians ‘belong here’ and are indistinguishable in national terms, he implicitly rejects proposals that would re-ethnicise the state.
Whether this marks a broader shift within government thinking, or merely an individual intervention, remains to be seen. What is clear is that the statement has landed at a moment when Fiji is once again negotiating the boundaries of identity, citizenship, and power.
In that sense, Kamikamica’s words revive an older, unresolved question, one that has haunted Fiji since independence: is the nation to be defined by ancestry, or by shared belonging?
His answer is unequivocal. The country, he suggests, has already moved on. The question is whether its politics will follow.
EDITOR'S NOTE: As Editor of Fijileaks, I add a personal note to this intervention. I was a close friend of his father Josevata Kamikamica (RIP) and had actively campaigned during the 1994 general election, for him (JK), not coupist Sitiveni Rabuka, to assume the office of Prime Minister. That moment, too, turned on questions of legitimacy, leadership, and the direction of the nation.
In 1994, Josevata Kamikamica formed the Fijian Association Party (FAP) to challenge Rabuka and the Great Council of Chiefs-endorsed SVT in that year’s general election. I supported him through my opinion columns in the Fiji Sun. The FAP enjoyed tacit backing from Ratu Sir Kamisese Mara, who had openly expressed his support for Kamikamica’s premiership at the Great Council of Chiefs meeting.
However, Mara was outvoted, partly by Rabuka’s politicised nominees on the Council. The SVT, for its part, accused Kamikamica of facilitating a return of political power to Indo-Fijians. In a strategic misstep, Kamikamica announced that he would form a coalition government with Indo-Fijian parties if he won the 1994 election, a position that played directly into the hands of SVT nationalists. He ultimately lost his own parliamentary seat, despite having campaigned on restoring integrity and dignity to Fijian leadership.
I do not know Manoa Kamikamica personally. My only direct encounter, albeit indirectly, arose after the 2022 election when he entered office under Rabuka’s leadership. At that time, Fijileaks, acting as a responsible investigative platform, made inquiries into circulating social media claims as to whether his wife had accompanied him to New Zealand at taxpayers’ expense. Rather than clarification, the response conveyed was a threat of legal action.
This is not recounted to personalise the present debate but to underscore a broader point. Public office carries with it not only the authority to speak on national unity but also the obligation to engage transparently with legitimate scrutiny. One cannot, on the one hand, call for a shared national identity grounded in mutual respect and, on the other, resist reasonable questions posed in the public interest.
That said, Manoa Kamikamica’s present remarks deserve to be assessed on their own merit. In affirming that Indo-Fijians are ‘our brothers and sisters’ and fully ‘Fijian’, he has articulated a position that, if consistently upheld in both word and conduct, would mark a meaningful departure from the exclusionary impulses that have too often defined Fiji’s political past.
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