As 2007 came to an end, Bainimarama championed with renewed vigour his proposal to create a truly non-racial society. In his ‘Road Map’ statement, Bainimarama had talked of the need to ‘rid the Constitution of provisions that facilitate and exacerbate the politics of race’, and promised to appoint a Constitution Review Team to address this and other related issues. The team was not appointed; it had been overtaken by the NCBBF and the People’s Charter; but Bainimarama continued to speak out in favour of non-racial politics. He proposed, for example, that all 71 seats in the House of Representatives should be contested from non-racial common roll constituencies. It was a radical proposal, breathtaking in its audacity, and the first of its kind in post-independence Fiji from a Fijian. Bainimarama seemed adamant about it too. The common roll cause, which had once aroused such passionate debate in Fiji, had effectively died in 1969 with the death of its tireless advocate, A.D. Patel.^[55] Since then, every major political leader in Fiji, Fijian and Indo-Fijian alike, had accepted the ‘reality’ of race as the driver of Fiji politics and worked within its broad parameters.

The proposal drew a cautious response from SDL leader Laisenia Qarase. The 2007 census showed the indigenous Fijians comprising 57 per cent of the total population of 827, 900, while the Indo-Fijian proportion had declined to 37 per cent. The projections are for further decline as Indo-Fijians emigrate and their birthrate remains low. Qarase, like many other Fijian leaders, sensed an advantage in the numbers, which explains his cautious, but encouraging, support. Qarase is mistaken if he thinks that all Fijians will automatically vote for his party, though in the short run many might as the interim administration continues to alienate sizeable sections of the Fijian community. Qarase’s willingness to consider a common electoral roll is predicated on his assumption of Fijian solidarity behind his party.

For his part, FLP leader Mahendra Chaudhry has opposed, rhetorically at least, the race-based election system although his stand on complete common roll is not clear. He will be challenged by many in his own community who prefer racially reserved seats because of the illusion of security it gives them, having known no other system. The issue becomes more urgent for them as their numbers dwindle. Thus, it should come as no surprise if the once ardent champions of non-racialism embrace a racially compartmentalized system with guaranteed racial representation.

But, at least on the face of it, all three principal leaders of Fiji – Qarase, Chaudhry and Bainimarama –are agreed on the need to move the country away from race-based politics, providing a basis for further dialogue between them. If there is disquiet about abandoning all the racially reserved seats in one clean sweep, the recommendations of the Reeves Commission for a gradual abandonment of racially reserved seats might be worth considering. The Commission recommended that two thirds (46) of the 71 House of Representative seats should be contested from non-racial open seats and one third from racially-reserved ones, with a move to all non-racial open seats over time.

The evolving common ground on this issue notwithstanding, there are several obstacles. The first is Bainimarama’s complete unwillingness to engage with Qarase face-to-face on any issue except strictly on his own terms. On 16 November 2007, Qarase wrote to Bainimarama, following earlier correspondence, seeking a meeting and suggesting a pathway out of the current impasse.^[56] Among his suggestions was that the interim administration continue running the affairs of the country until parliament is recalled. The recalled parliament would sit at most for two weeks (for the lower house, and one week for of the Senate) to deal with urgent business. Just before the recall of parliament the interim administration would resign, paving the way for a caretaker cabinet comprising members of the ousted Qarase government to run the country for the duration of the recalled parliament. The prime minister would then resign and advise the president to dissolve the parliament, a caretaker government taking the country to the next general election. The proposal was sensible, if also somewhat convoluted, but worth serious consideration. As Qarase wrote:

Bainimarama informed the nation that, instead of pondering the matters Qarase had raised, he had thrown the letter straight into the rubbish bin. If Qarase wanted dialogue, he would have to embrace the People’s Charter and raise his concerns there. Bainimarama’s visceral dislike – hatred might be a more apt word – of the ousted prime minister has shown no sign of diminishing. Bainimarama seems to believe in the old maxim that treating your adversary with respect is giving him an advantage to which he is not entitled. Even entitlements due to a former prime minister have been denied to Qarase in what can only be called petty acts of petulant retribution, especially when Mahendra Chaudhry and Sitiveni Rabuka (and Tevita Momoedonu, who was prime minister for a few hours in 2000, enabling President Ratu Mara to dissolve parliament and call for fresh elections) receive their prime ministerial privileges. Qarase was the country’s democratically elected leader for nearly six years.

The second problem flows from the first. Bainimarama insists that the next general election, whenever it is held, will be under a non-racial voting system. But how will the new system be given constitutional legitimacy if it is not authorized by parliament? A decreed electoral system, without the imprimatur of parliament, will find favour with no one. Instead, it will cause further friction and division in Fiji. As the saying goes, it is better to debate a question without settling it, than to settle it without debate. But with the military insisting that its way is the only way, prospects of productive dialogue seem bleak.

There was a brief glimmer of hope in March 2008 when Commonwealth envoy and former chairman of the Fiji Constitution Review Commission, Sir Paul Reeves, visited Fiji to mediate between the different political leaders in an effort to break the political deadlock that Fiji found itself in. He had made the trip to Fiji at the invitation of Bainimarama. At first, the interim prime minister was welcoming, as were some of the other leaders, but then Bainimarama, at the behest of the military council, changed his mind and cancelled further meetings with Reeves. Perhaps an important reason for Bainimarama’s change of mind might have been the position adopted by the FLP, which refused to participate in the discussions. ‘How can it [the FLP] enter into a political dialogue with people whose legitimacy it is challenging?’ a party statement asked.^[57] The ousted SDL government had challenged the legality of the interim government in court. In any event, the consultations promised by the NCBBF were much broader and more inclusive and the SDL and other parties could join the dialogue through it. On the face of it, the FLP’s position seems disingenuous: After all, it had no difficulty lending support to Sitiveni Rabuka in 1992 while challenging the legitimacy of the constitution that brought him to power. Reeves wanted to explore ways of returning Fiji to early parliamentary democracy, while the FLP wants to postpone the election to beyond 2009, after the People’s Charter is in place. An important opportunity was missed.

If a week is a long time in politics, a year is an eternity. Fiji’s tale of woes continues. Many issues which precipitated the crisis and held the country to ransom remain unresolved. But if there is one thing certain amidst all the chaos and uncertainty confounding today’s Fiji, it is that the military is there to stay for the long haul. It wants for itself an entrenched role in the nation’s affairs. The military will no longer simply be an instrument of the state. It will be the ultimate authority overseeing the affairs of the state. A militarized democracy seems in the offing for Fiji.

Despite all the provocation, there was no civil strife in Fiji. Fear of what the military might do, has led to a prudent appreciation of the realities on the ground. After all, the military have all the guns, and their behaviour shows they mean business. More importantly, the prudent reactions of those sections of the Fijian community most aggrieved by the coup have highlighted the serious leadership vacuum in the Fijian community. Laisenia Qarase’s enforced exile on his remote island of Mavana in the Lau group deprived his supporters of a leader around whom they could rally. After returning to Suva, Qarase maintained a low profile, quietly consulting party colleagues about the impending court case and other related matters. He was being prudent: He had no choice. Most of his former parliamentary colleagues were silent, watching the unfolding events from the sidelines. There was polite protest in the newspapers, although most grumblings remained around the grog bowl.

The GCC reacted similarly to the reforms in its internal structure and composition proposed by the interim administration. The determination to seek resolutions to the country’s problems within the legal and constitutional framework augurs well for Fiji, but not too much should be taken for granted. It was refreshing to see those who once decried democracy as a foreign flower unsuited to Fijian soil, publicly embracing democracy as the only way forward. Such are the processes of political transformation in contemporary Fiji. But, as recent history has shown, perceptions and attitudes change fast. Today’s self-proclaimed democrats could, without too much contortion, turn into tomorrow’s autocrats; the roots of respect for the rule of law and constitutional processes remain very shallow.

The December coup raised a whole host of questions about the kind of society Fiji is and, more importantly, aspires to be. What kind of political culture does it want to bequeath to future generations? Will the military, from now on, be an integral part of the political process, as in Turkey or Thailand or even Pakistan? What role will traditional institutions play in the modern political arena? There were no answers to these questions in 2007. Much was promised, much less accomplished. Robert Rounds of Lautoka spoke for many when he wrote: ‘I am tired of the continued promises and fancy choice of words. Fiji needs leaders, we need our leaders to give us reason to believe that we will one day be “the way the world should”. Fancy words can only last so long. Leaders do not rule, they lead. Sadly no one is leading our Fiji.’^[58]