On 1 September Fiji became only the second country ever to be suspended from the Commonwealth, putting it in the same class as the Nigerian regime that executed Nobel peace prize nominee Ken Saro-Wiwa for his peaceful protests against Shell. Despite this, however, I’d be willing to bet that the last time most Progress readers gave any thought to Fiji was when Gordon Brown was emblazoned across the houses of parliament, tropical flower behind his ear, advertising the Fiji Visitors Bureau. This isn’t the way things should be. Though Fiji is small and remote, what is taking place there demands the attention of progressives, including here in the UK. The country has been governed by the head of the military since the end of 2006 and the regime’s actions have pulled the country into a dark and dangerous place.
Today in Fiji people are living with a heavily censored media. Military personnel are stationed in the office of every media outlet, supervising outputs and journalists who publish stories that they disapprove of are frequently arrested, threatened, beaten and deported. The police and army operate with impunity, with a law in place explicitly permitting the use of force – including firearms – in arrests, and preventing the police and army from prosecution should people die as a result. Protests are banned and the regime has announced that it will fire no ‘warning’ shots should this order be disobeyed.
The effects of this police state on Fiji’s economy and society is crippling. It has severely harmed the sugar industry, for example, the backbone of the economy, and a vital source of income for many of the poorest. Continued refusals to set an imminent date for elections have led the EU to withhold vital assistance, worth tens of millions of Euros. And in an environment of uncertainty, with investment plummeting and the currency under pressure, it is very hard to see where alternative employment will come from.
Effects on social institutions are just as corrosive. The Methodist church has long been Fiji’s main religious institution and was a strong supporter of the previous, democratically elected government. It currently faces serious restrictions (its annual conference was banned, for example) and a replacement ‘new Methodist church’ has been started by a man close to the military leadership. This church has been very successful, mostly because of outright coercion – all police officers, for example, are required to attend services and take part in religious rallies, regardless of their personal religious beliefs (or lack thereof). In a country where there are large numbers of hindus and muslims and where the coup was ostensibly carried out to protect the rights of minority ethnic groups this leaves a particularly bitter taste in the mouth.
The police have also made clear that they are now following the ‘Jesus strategy’ which involves ‘re-educating’ the arrested rather than following legal criminal proceedings. Reports suggest this involves not pressing charges if the offender ‘accepts Jesus’, including for serious crimes such as grievous bodily harm. Women’s groups made clear that this approach is also extremely damaging to women’s situation in Fiji. There are reports of complaints of domestic abuse not being pursued by the police, but rather the women told that they should return home and accept the natural authority of their husbands.
It is clear that the current regime violates the ‘Commonwealth values’ and Fiji’s suspension was right and appropriate. The key question now is whether the pressure can be stepped up. As a small country Fiji both cares what the international community thinks, and it needs us, as individual tourists, as well as as bilateral trading partners and aid donors. If together we demanded change it would make a huge difference – increased media attention, citizens’ campaigns and political pressure could all help. It is a question of whether we can find the time.