A Hongqi H9 sedan parked in the grounds of the Fiji State House, flags fluttering, smiles all around, may look harmless enough, given as a gift by the Chinese Government recently to the President. But if you peel the layers, it is evident that the real cargo delivered to Fiji last week was not leather seats and chrome trim — it was symbolism, leverage, and a very public reminder of who expects loyalty in the Pacific.
China’s gift of a “Red Flag” executive limousine to the Office of the President has been presented as yet another “milestone” in the Fiji–China relationship. The car itself is no ordinary runabout. The Hongqi brand is steeped in Communist Party mythology, its logo personally inscribed by Mao Zedong, and its H9 model commonly used by Chinese leaders for official state functions. When that car becomes the daily vehicle of Fiji’s Head of State, it is not just transport — it is a moving billboard of geopolitical alignment.
On its own, a donated car might be dismissed as routine diplomatic courtesy. What transforms this gesture into something more troubling is the way it was framed. At the handover ceremony, President Ratu Naiqama Lalabalavu did not simply thank China for a vehicle. He “acknowledged the donation and reaffirmed Fiji’s commitment to the One China Policy, describing it as a cornerstone of co-operation between the two countries”.
In one breath, the Head of State linked a tangible gift to Fiji’s position on one of the most sensitive strategic questions of our time — one that the entire world and our major partners Australia, New Zealand, the USA, and the UK are grappling with. Daily, there are skirmishes in the South China Sea, and Chinese military ships are targeting the flow of traffic and aircraft in international corridors. Taiwan is threatened daily, and recently the USA decided to sell increased military equipment to Taiwan to defend it.
That is where the line between protocol and inducement begins to blur. Fiji has every right, as a sovereign nation, to adopt a One China Policy. In fact, successive governments have already done so, and the policy has been reiterated in joint statements and ministerial speeches marking 50 years of diplomatic relations.
But there is a world of difference between a carefully considered foreign policy stance — debated and owned by elected representatives — and a luxury car ceremony where that same stance is presented as the “cornerstone” of co-operation, right after the keys were handed over.
The optics are terrible. They invite the conclusion that Fiji’s adherence to One China is being rewarded, reinforced, and perhaps even policed through gifts to the highest office in the land. That is the textbook logic of cheque book diplomacy – in this case we can say limousine diplomacy: using development assistance, loans, grants, or high–profile gifts to secure political positions and mute criticism.
The Pacific has seen this movie before. For years, analysts have warned that China’s growing presence in the region is accompanied by a pattern of transactional diplomacy — funding infrastructure, government buildings, roads, stadiums and official residences in ways that create both gratitude and dependency. The Hongqi H9 now joins that list, but with an added twist: It is not a hospital wing or a bridge for the people; it is a prestige item for the Head of State.
There is also a constitutional dimension that cannot be ignored. The President of Fiji is meant to stand above day–to–day politics, embodying national unity and neutrality. When the occupant of that office publicly ties a personal or institutional gift to a contested foreign policy position, the perception of neutrality is compromised. It becomes harder for the President to be seen as an impartial guardian of the State when he is literally chauffeured in a rolling symbol of one power’s expectations.
What makes this even more serious is the strategic context Fiji now finds itself in. Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka has been explicit in signalling that Fiji will not host a Chinese military base and has sought to reassure traditional partners such as Australia and New Zealand about Fiji’s security posture. At the same time, China has been pushing to deepen its security and economic footprint across the Pacific, from policing agreements to port access and digital infrastructure.
Against that backdrop, the President’s remarks risk sending a mixed message. While the elected government tries to balance relationships and maintain strategic flexibility, the Head of State appears to be locking Fiji into a narrative where One China is the “cornerstone” of co-operation and where Chinese largesse is publicly celebrated at the very heart of our constitutional order.
That is not just symbolism; it is a signal — read carefully in Beijing, Canberra, Wellington, Washington and Taipei. President Trump will not forget that either, and Fiji may now be required to pay about $22,000 as a bond just to obtain a visitor’s visa to visit the United States. President Trump made it clear at the Davos meeting that he will remember the nations that are not with him in the long run.
Fiji should lie low and not antagonise our partners for a car we cannot fix, do not have spare parts for, and which will cost the Fijian taxpayer an arm and a leg to maintain — especially when it breaks down. Will our President then run back to the Chinese for that too?
The USA is our traditional friend. We share geopolitical interests with Australia and New Zealand, and Fiji needs to showcase leadership as part of the small island State in the region. The political nature of the President’s comments — when he should show neutrality — reveals a lack of judgment about the international politics at play and how diplomacy works in real life.
There is another casualty here: Taiwan. By so explicitly wrapping the gift in the language of One China, the President has gone beyond quiet adherence to a long–standing policy and stepped into overt political signalling. For a Head of State who should avoid partisan or highly contentious positions, that is a risky move. It will be read in Taipei as a deliberate snub and in the wider region as Fiji taking sides more loudly than before.
Then there is the practical absurdity. The Hongqi H9 is a niche luxury vehicle. It will likely be expensive to maintain, with specialised parts and servicing requirements that tie the Office of the President even more closely to Chinese suppliers and technicians. What looks like a “free” gift today may become a white elephant tomorrow — costly to keep on the road, awkward to replace, and politically loaded every time it appears in public.
If China genuinely wishes to support the wellbeing of the Fijian people, there are countless other ways to do so that do not place the Head of State in such a compromised position: Targeted support for rural health clinics, climate–resilience projects, scholarships for disadvantaged students, or transparent budget support channelled through accountable mechanisms.
Many of these forms of co-operation already exist and can be welcomed on their merits. The problem is not co-operation itself; it is the way prestige gifts to political elites can distort priorities and perceptions. The deeper issue is transparency and process. Was this gift discussed in Cabinet? Was Parliament informed? Is there a public register of high–value gifts to senior officeholders, with clear rules about acceptance, use and disposal?
In many democracies, gifts above a certain value must be declared and often become state property, not personal perks. Even then, leaders are cautious about accepting items that could be seen as compromising their independence.
Fiji should be no different. The country needs a robust, transparent framework governing diplomatic gifts — especially those directed at the highest offices. Such a framework would require that all high–value gifts be publicly declared, with clear details of the donor, the estimated value and the intended use.
It would also make clear that these items are state property, not personal benefits, and that their use is subject to independent oversight. Most importantly, it would ensure that protocol speeches do not link gifts to foreign policy positions, preventing any perception of quid pro quo.
And it would empower Parliament to debate and endorse major shifts or reaffirmations of sensitive foreign policy positions — such as One China — rather than allowing them to be casually bundled into ceremonial remarks.
China’s strategy is not limited to the Pacific. Across Africa, Beijing has poured billions into infrastructure projects — railways, ports, power plants — but many of these nations now find themselves drowning in debt. Zambia, Kenya, and Ethiopia owe China billions. Sri Lanka’s Hambantota port became the most famous example of what analysts call “debt–trap diplomacy”. Unable to repay its loans, Sri Lanka was forced to lease the port to China for 99 years. That was not charity; it was leverage. It showed the world that Chinese gifts and loans come with strings attached, and when those strings tighten, sovereignty itself can be compromised.
This is the underlying reality behind the limousine parked at State House. It is not just a car. It is a reminder that China’s diplomacy is transactional, calculated, and designed to bind nations into its orbit. The Pacific Islands, like many African states before them, are being treated as pawns in a larger geopolitical game.
Stadiums, roads, government buildings, and now prestige vehicles are presented as generosity, but they are crumbs thrown to nations that Beijing views as strategically useful. The real prize for China is influence — influence that can be converted into votes at the United Nations, silence on Taiwan, or acquiescence to Chinese military ambitions in the region.
Taiwan sits at the heart of this contest. Beijing has made no secret of its intention to “reunify” Taiwan, by force if necessary. Daily incursions by Chinese fighter jets into Taiwan’s air defence zone, naval manoeuvres in the Taiwan Strait, and aggressive rhetoric from Chinese leaders all point to a future confrontation.
The United States has responded by increasing arms sales to Taipei and strengthening alliances across the Indo–Pacific. Australia, Japan, and the Philippines have all stepped up military co-operation with Washington. In this tense environment, every gesture by Pacific Island nations is scrutinised.
When Fiji’s President ties a limousine gift to the One China Policy, it is not a neutral act. It is read in Taipei as a snub, in Washington as a signal of drift, and in Beijing as confirmation that its strategy is working.
The Solomon Islands offer a cautionary tale. In 2022, Honiara signed a security pact with China that stunned the region. Suddenly, the possibility of Chinese military or police deployments in the Pacific was real. Australia scrambled to shore up its position, signing a defence pact with Papua New Guinea and opening talks on a broader regional treaty that would include Fiji.
The United States reopened its embassy in Honiara after decades of absence. New Zealand increased its engagement. All of this was triggered by one agreement that revealed how quickly the balance of power could shift when China’s cheque book diplomacy was allowed to dictate outcomes.
Fiji is not the Solomon Islands, but the dynamics are similar. China is not offering gifts out of kindness. It is investing in influence. The limousine is part of a pattern that includes the refurbishment of State House, scholarships, medical aid, and infrastructure projects. Each gesture builds a narrative of friendship, but each also creates dependency. When the President of Fiji rides in a Hongqi H9, it is not just a matter of convenience. It is a daily advertisement of China’s presence at the heart of our political system.
Australia and New Zealand, meanwhile, are watching closely. Both nations have long considered the Pacific their strategic back yard. They have invested heavily in aid, security, and climate resilience. But they cannot compete with China’s scale of spending. What they can offer, however, is trust, transparency, and genuine partnership.
That is why Prime Minister Rabuka’s assurance that Fiji will not host a Chinese military base was so important. It signalled to Canberra and Wellington that Fiji understands the stakes. Yet that assurance is undermined when the Head of State publicly ties a gift to a contested foreign policy position. It creates confusion, and confusion is exactly what China thrives on.
The Pacific Islands should not be treated as beggars waiting for crumbs. We are sovereign nations with dignity, history, and agency. Yet China’s diplomacy often reduces us to recipients of largesse, expected to show gratitude by aligning with Beijing’s positions.
That is not partnership; it is manipulation. And it is dangerous. Because once you accept the gifts, it becomes harder to say no when the demands arrive. Ask Sri Lanka. Ask Zambia. Ask the Solomon Islands.
The likelihood of conflict in the Taiwan Strait makes this even more urgent. If war breaks out, the Pacific will not be spared. Shipping lanes will be disrupted, alliances will be tested, and nations will be forced to choose sides. Fiji must be prepared for that reality. Neutrality will be difficult to maintain if our symbols of state are tied to one side’s narrative. The President’s limousine is not just a car; it is a signal. And signals matter in geopolitics.
Diplomacy should be about mutual respect, not inducements. If China truly wants to help Fiji, it should invest in projects that strengthen our resilience — climate adaptation, renewable energy, rural health, and education. It should do so transparently, without expecting political statements in return. But that is not how Beijing operates.
Its gifts are calculated, its loans are strategic, and its diplomacy is designed to bind. That is why we must be cautious. That is why we must insist on transparency. And that is why our leaders must remember that neutrality is not just a constitutional principle; it is a strategic asset.
The Hongqi H9 will soon be gliding through Suva’s streets, its polished bodywork reflecting the tropical sun. Every time it does, it will also reflect a question back at us: Whose interests does this symbol serve? If the answer is not unequivocally “the people of Fiji,” then the real price of this gift may be far higher than its showroom value.
It is not too late to reset the tone. The government can clarify that Fiji’s One China Policy rests on sovereign decision–making, not on gifts.
Parliament can move to strengthen rules on diplomatic donations. And the Office of the President can take greater care to preserve the dignity and neutrality that the Constitution expects. Because in the end, diplomacy should never be for sale — whether by a cheque, by a stadium, or by a limousine.
DR SUSHIL SHARMA is a World Meteorological Organisation-accredited Class 1 Professional Meteorologist. Former Aviation Meteorologist for the British Aerospace, Royal Saudi Air Force, Bahrain Meteorological Service and Associate Professor of Meteorology, Fiji National University and Manager Climate, Research and Services Division, Fiji Meteorological Services. The views expressed are those of the author and not necessarily shared by this newspaper.
