Fiji’s leadership dilemma is not a crisis of culture but of control.
What began as a sacred covenant between land and people was reshaped into an instrument of the British empire.
Chiefs who once rose through service and courage became custodians of a colonial hierarchy, while their people became subjects of administration.
That legacy endures. Today, chiefly seats remain vacant, disputes stall village development, and younger generations demand competence over ceremony. The question before us is moral and civic: should Fiji continue to inherit its village leadership — or choose them by merit, service, and consent?
Leadership was earned, not inherited
Before colonisation, leadership in Fiji emerged through courage, wisdom, and service to the vanua (Hocart 1912; Nayacakalou 1975; Ravuvu 1983). The colonial system reversed that order, institutionalising birthright and obedience to preserve control (France 1969). Restoring merit-based leadership is not rebellion against tradition — it is the restoration of its true spirit.
When leadership flows from moral strength rather than inherited privilege, the vanua thrives.
The players and power
When the British Crown annexed Fiji in 1874, it imported a political formula of indirect rule — tested in India and West Africa to control, not empower (Mamdani 1996; Crowder 1964). Two years later, the Great Council of Chiefs (GCC) was created under Governor Arthur Gordon — not as a gesture of respect but as an administrative tool (Lal 1992; France 1969). Chiefs who cooperated were rewarded with prestige and stipends; those who resisted were sidelined or removed (France 1969; Lal 1992; Mamdani 1996).
These colonial architects perfected divide-and-rule. Through communal land laws, segregated schools, and a tripartite labour system — iTaukei as landowners, Indo-Fijians as indentured labourers (1879–1916), and Europeans as administrators and planters — they entrenched racial and economic hierarchy (Gillion 1977; Lal 1983). Chiefs maintained rural order while colonial governors extracted sugar, copra, and labour for export.
Before colonisation, chiefs were not born to privilege—they earned it. Leadership came through courage in battle, wisdom in council, and service to the people. Early ethnographers described leaders chosen by consensus among the tokatoka, mataqali, and yavusa, reflecting a sacred covenant between land and people (Hocart, 1912; Nayacakalou, 1975). Authority flowed from mana — the moral force of character — not from inherited title.
Colonial intervention disrupted this natural order, replacing community consensus with bureaucratic control. Chiefs once chosen for service were now installed through lineage and politics, sowing rivalries among birthright claimants and eroding unity within the vanua. What began as a system of shared stewardship became a contest for entitlement — and its cost is now visible across the land.
By August 2024, chiefly vacancies had increased to 44 percent (Ministry of iTaukei Affairs 2024), paralysing decision-making in many villages and weakening the vanua itself. The young don’t reject tradition — they reject stagnation.
The core conflict
Fiji now stands at a crossroads between birthright and meritocracy. The former preserves hierarchy but often paralyses progress; the latter revives the spirit of service that once animated the vanua.
Hereditary succession, once stabilising, has become divisive. Vacant titles breed disputes; disputes stall development; and stalled development drives migration. Villages empty of youth while informal settlements swell around Suva and Nadi (Sutherland 1992).
This is not a struggle between old and new Fiji — it is between entitlement and accountability. Chiefs once rose through deeds and service to the vanua; today, too many rise through descent and manipulation of the legal system. Restoring merit is not a rejection of the chiefly system — it is its salvation.
The historical arc
Fiji’s leadership evolution mirrors its colonial history.
- Pre-1874: Chiefs chosen through valour and consensus.
- 1874–1876: British annexation turned them into the administrative arm of empire.
- 1879–1916: Indian indenture entrenched a racial economy (Gillion 1977; Lal 1983).
- 1900s–1960s: The GCC managed land, tax, and compliance for the Crown.
- 1970–2006: Independence brought sovereignty but little reform.
- 2007–2012: The GCC was suspended and later disestablished.
- 2023: The GCC was legally reinstated through the iTaukei Affairs (Amendment) Act 2023 (Act No. 25), assented 28 Nov 2023 and in force 1 Dec 2023 (Fiji Government Gazette 2023).
- 2013 Constitution onward: Equality and meritocracy were enshrined in law, though practice lagged behind principle.
Now, with the GCC restored, Fiji faces a historic choice: revive the principle of service—or settle for symbolism.
The battlegrounds of change
The fight for renewal will not be won in Parliament but in Fiji’s 1193 villages — the living heart of the vanua (Fiji Bureau of Statistics 2023).
In Tailevu and Macuata, chiefly disputes have frozen development. Navala, once a model of communal labour, now faces youth out-migration and under-cultivation.
Meanwhile, an estimated 120,000 to 140,000 Fijians now live in more than 170 informal settlements — roughly the size of an entire town like Nasinu, whose population is about 120 000 (Fiji Bureau of Statistics 2023; Habitat for Humanity 2022). This rural-to-urban drift has both economic and social displacement costs.
The moral and civic imperative
This debate is not about dismantling tradition — it is about decolonising it. The hereditary model was a colonial invention, not an indigenous constant. Reclaiming meritocracy is restoration, not rebellion.
When chiefs are chosen for wisdom and service, they inspire trust, attract enterprise, and bridge the gap between government and grassroots. Villages led by capable chiefs can again become engines of prosperity through co-operative farming, renewable energy, and youth enterprise.
The 2013 Constitution affirms a Secular State (s4) and equal citizenship (s5), removing race-based governance structures (Republic of Fiji 2013). Reforming the iTaukei Lands Act, iTaukei Affairs Act, and Native Lands Act to allow community-driven selection of chiefs would align law with both justice and tradition.
Culturally, this restores the covenant of the vanua—where leadership was a duty, not an inheritance. Spiritually, it reconnects mana to humility. As Proverbs 29:2 reminds us: “When the righteous are in authority, the people rejoice.”
Why merit matters
Merit-based succession is not new — it is the original iTaukei way. As Matthew 7:16 teaches, “You will know them by their fruits.” Leaders should be judged by vision, results, and service — not by birth.
A capable, visionary chief can drive village-led prosperity and development that can meaningfully contribute to the reduction of Fiji’s FJD 800 million food-import bill. One example of what local initiative can achieve is found in Grace Road’s integrated farming model, which operates about 400 hectares nationwide and employs roughly 150 people in farming operations — with total group employment reported in the hundreds (FBC 2024). Imagine what well-led villages could achieve under the same principle — with its untapped potential, natural resource base, and geographical advantages. But where that leadership is absent, potential turns to paralysis, and opportunity gives way to exodus.
Where leadership fails, people leave. Youth drift to cities, turn to drugs, or drop out of school — symptoms of frustration with outdated governance. Left unchecked, disputed titles and disillusionment risk social unrest.
This cycle of neglect and migration is not inevitable — it is the direct result of weak leadership and lost accountability. When leadership is restored through competence and service, the same forces that once drove people away can draw them back home.
Meritocracy strengthens rural economies, reduces youth migration, and restores trust in the vanua.
The laws that must change
Several colonial-era statutes still bind chiefly governance to outdated administrative control. These laws were originally designed to centralise authority, regulate land through distant boards, and dilute the people’s right to shape their own future (France 1969; Lal 1992; Ravuvu 1983; Sutherland 1992). To achieve true decolonisation, these Acts must evolve to reflect equality, transparency, and local autonomy — restoring decision-making power to the villages where it rightly belongs.
Legal reform should also embed long-term village development within a clear, structured framework. Each village should operate under a longterm, generational Master Development Plan, agreed upon by the tokatoka, mataqali, yavusa, and government partners.
This plan would ensure that development follows an approved vision — protecting communities from ad hoc or opportunistic shareholding, short-term projects, and external manipulation.
Broad consensus, not elite discretion, must guide village progress so that every initiative strengthens both the vanua and national development goals.
1. iTaukei Affairs Act [Cap 120] — Centralises authority in the iTaukei Affairs Board and provincial councils, often overriding village consensus. Power should devolve to tikina and yavusa levels.
2. iTaukei Lands Act [Cap 133] — Regulates land and leases, affecting thousands of farmers. Streamlining it would improve productivity while protecting communal ownership.
3. Native Land Trust Act [Cap 134] — Governs how about 91 percent of Fiji’s land is managed through the TLTB. Modernisation is needed for transparency and equitable benefit sharing.
4. Fijians Trust Fund Act 2004 — Intended to support culture and leadership but often detached from communities. Redirecting funds to village-based training and women’s or youth enterprises would link heritage to livelihoods.
Updating these statutes — and aligning them with structured, longterm, generational village development plans — would make land, leadership, and livelihoods work together once again.
The role of the kingmaker
The State’s role in chiefly appointments must focus on recognition and registration — not control. Private and community-based dispute-resolution mechanisms should replace endless court battles.
Before 1874, the power to choose a chief rested with the tokatoka, mataqali, and yavusa (Nayacakalou 1975; Ravuvu 1983). Under British rule, that authority was transferred upward to chiefs and colonial administrators (France 1969).
The village kingmaker, once decisive, became ceremonial.
It is time to restore that balance. Village kingmakers must again deliberate and select wisely, free from bias and fear. Government can help by setting clear selection criteria — akin to senior executive recruitment — and by training kingmakers in governance and ethics.
Re-empowering the kingmaker reconnects leadership to its rightful source — the people — and closes the gap between vanua authority and modern governance.
A master plan for village revival
To make merit-based leadership real, Fiji needs a Master Village Development Plan (MVDP) — a framework tailored to each village’s location, resources, and strengths. There must be one for every village — 1,193 in total — each reflecting local realities but aligned to a common national vision. A working model already exists in Navua through Grace Road’s integrated farming operations — about 400 hectares combining crops, livestock, aquaculture, and processing. Its productivity is proven, employing roughly 150 farm workers and several hundred across the group (FBC 2024). Despite its controversial origins, its model proves what empowered leadership can achieve — sustainable, high-yield, job-creating enterprise.
Scaled nationally, similar agro-hubs could transform 1193 villages into networks of production and innovation — coastal Nakorotubu for fisheries, highland Namosi for dairy, poultry, goat, vegetables, piggery and root crops, Vanua Levu for rice, millet, coconut oil and mariculture. A modest $50million investment in 50 pilot villages by 2026 could generate around 10 000 jobs — an indicative projection of how locally led development can strengthen sovereignty.
The MVDP must strengthen the key pillars of human prosperity and national development: food security, energy security, financial independence, health and wellbeing, knowledge and innovation, and security — from the personal to the Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ). Anchored in the revised National Development Plan 2025–2029, it can curb urban drift, reduce import dependence, and revitalise the vanua.
Completing the circle of sovereignty
Fiji’s political independence in 1970 ended colonial rule but not colonial logic. The British flag was lowered, yet the system it left behind continued to divide and control.
The 2013 Constitution gives Fiji the chance to finish the job — to complete the circle of sovereignty by aligning governance with the moral and cultural foundations of the vanua. This means reforming outdated laws, restoring merit-based leadership, and reawakening the spirit of service that once defined chiefly life.
To decolonise chiefly appointments is not to erase the past but to redeem it. The chiefs who rise from this process will not be relics of empire but stewards of renewal — leaders accountable to the people, to the land, and to the enduring truth that: to rebuild the vanua is to rebuild the nation.
If we rebuild leadership on service and merit, then by 2030 Fiji’s chiefs may again be what they were meant to be — the moral compass of a sovereign people.
SUNIL CHAND is an engineer and reform strategist with three decades of senior level experience in manufacturing, regulation, and higher education. His Fiji 2.0 initiative outlines a blueprint for national renewal from the lens of first principles. The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not reflect the views of this newspaper.


