Citizenship and belonging
THE last article in this series ended by highlighting an impasse that had blighted Fiji politics historically.
On the one hand, was the demand for security of tenure on leased land and freedom to contest for political power. On the other, was the demand for political paramountcy – power in perpetuity. Plus an added demand for the declaration of Fiji as a Christian state.
Indo-Fijians could live in Fiji, make money and progress, but they should never aspire for political power. This is something that we had always lived with – the notion of political paramountcy for one ethnic group at the expense of the other amid a zero-sum paradigm.
Leadership and vision
It is this paradigm that had to be broken and for that, trust was an absolute necessity. In this case, the trust developed gradually between the two leaders Jai Ram Reddy and PM Sitiveni Rabuka.
As change in Reddy began to firm up and become public, he was invited as chief guest to deliver the closing address at the international year of the world’s indigenous people in 1993.
In his speech Reddy, the descendant of girmitiya, said: “History is unlikely to long recall the text of my speech tonight. But what the record will show is that, here in our country, the year of the indigenous people was closed by a non-indigenous citizen.
“And that is a remarkable reflection both of the tolerant and welcoming nature of Taukei culture, and of the new Fiji we are building together. It is yet another sign of the growing desire for national reconciliation and healing among all our peoples.”
He was then invited to address a General Voters Party meeting in 1994 – a rarity in the ethnically demarcated environment of the time. As mentioned earlier, general electors were wary of getting close to the Indo-Fijians as it was neither politically prudent nor advisable from a socio-cultural perspective.
At this meeting, Reddy boldly stated: “As I look around me today, it strikes me that in many ways the people in this room are a reflection of the sort of Fiji we are trying to build. We have represented here people of many races, many religions, many cultures, and many political, economic and social points of view. Some of us (as I am sure the Prime Minister can confirm!) differ quite strongly on many issues.”
He added, “but we are able to gather in most cordial circumstances, to eat and drink together, to talk of matters of interest both great and small, and, finally, to sit back and listen to a guest speaker whose views we may not share.
“It is my belief that this is a microcosm of the kind of nation the current climate of unity and healing is aimed at creating. We may not always agree, but we can nevertheless respect each others’ opinions and beliefs, and find compromises and common ground to allow us to resolve our major differences.”
This was vintage Reddy. He was talking from the heart of a vision that he had as a leader of the Indo-Fijian community. This was the type of empathetic approach that had eluded past Indian and Indo-Fijian leaders. It was this vision that he wanted to share with the nation as a prelude to the constitutional review process.
An opportunity arose when Ratu Sir Penaia Ganilau passed away in 1994. I, as one of his subjects, was heavy-hearted and despondent because not only had he been a close friend of my paternal grandfather, he was someone we trusted. We yearned for Reddy to touch the hearts of Fijians with pointed honesty. He did not disappoint.
In his eulogy for the justdemised Tui Cakau, Reddy acknowledged the critical role Ratu Penaia had played during 1987 and its aftermath by saying, “The pressures Ratu Penaia had to bear were enormous and the problems facing him were daunting. But he applied himself to them with courage and vision.
“He gave us leadership which provided grounds for hope; he showed us there was a way for this nation to become reconciled and whole. He helped the Fijians and the Indians to look at each other again and see that unity was possible if we thought of ourselves as citizens of one country with common loyalties.”
A shared vision
PM Rabuka was also heavily mired in the very thick of the constitutional review process. After his Soqosoqo ni Vakavulewa ni Taukei (SVT) party made its highly divisive submission to the Joint Parliamentary Select Committee, there was dismay all around.
Rabuka, however, quietly assured all concerned that that was only the SVT position, he would not baulk at forging out a path for inclusiveness as, by then, he had accepted that he had caused so much pain and misery in 1987.
A key point of contention focused on the principle of paramountcy of Fijian interests. This was deeply embedded in the Fijian psyche through both colonial as well as post-colonial experiences. It was felt by Fijians of all political persuasions that Fijian interests outweighed any other interests when it came to political power play.
This emanated from the paradigm that placed political decision-making within a zero-sum equation. It meant that if any decision had a pro-Fijian slant, it was anti-Indian and vice versa. Fijian submissions to the JPSC clearly showed that paramountcy as a “protective” principle had evolved into an “assertive” one: that is, from paramountcy as a privilege to paramountcy as a right.
The lessons of 1987 were apparently hard to unlearn even though much had changed and much learnings had taken place among the various leaders of the time. When the Constitution Review Commission submitted its report to the President Ratu Sir Kamisese Mara on September 6, 1996, there was mixed reaction.
Ratu Mara hailed the fact that the report was unanimous and a miraculous consensus had been reached. He saw this as a sign that consensus was still possible in our fractured country.
PM Rabuka was also glowing in his praise saying, “We want a constitution that gives everyone fair and equitable opportunities of full participation in the governance of their country.” “An exclusive approach,” he added, “with sole concentration on one’s own communal or political and economic interests, sadly, will not work and can only be counterproductive.
“National unity and a positive environment for the economic and social advancement of everyone in Fiji must be our overriding goal.” Rabuka was finally making his stand public. Reddy supported him squarely. This meant the three most prominent leaders at the time – Ratu Mara, Sitiveni Rabuka and Jai Ram Reddy – were pleased with the report released by the commission.
An ogre re-emerges
Alarm bells, however, began ringing in the extremist camp. The nemesis of ethnopolitical moderation, Sakeasi Butadroka and highly opportunistic Iliesa Duvuloco, formed an ad hoc Coalition Against the Reeves Report and began a countercampaign. The very report that was hailed by the three leaders cited above was destroyed and conflagrated in a lovo by these rejectionists who issued enraged threats of protests throughout the country.
An orchestrated campaign followed to have the report discussed and rejected by the various provincial councils. The response was negative and often hostile. Senior SVT members, Ratu Inoke Kubuabola, Kelemedi Bulewa (a former AttorneyGeneral) and Sir Jim Ah Koy featured in the forefront of these public rejections of the report by provincial councils.
Other senior rejectionists included Ratu Finau Mara (a friend of mine) and Ratu Tevita Vakalalabure (a feared heavyweight boxer and high chief of Natewa).
Rabuka was in a quandary as the hardliners who had propped up his political career advised him not to abandon the aims of the 1987 coup. Now he was faced with the dilemma of fulfilling his promises to the ethno-nationalists (and Fijians) in 1987 and his promises to the nation in 1994.
It was a classic “do and you are doomed, don’t and you are doomed” scenario. It was time for hard decisions and committed leadership. Just how did Rabuka manage to forge consensus within such an impossibly fractious environment? This will be looked at in the next article in this series.
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