The long-running row between the former Fiji government and the Suva-based regional University of the South Pacific (USP) has come back to haunt former Fiji Prime Minister Voreqe Bainimarama, who spent a night in a police cell on March 9 before appearing in court, charged with abuse of office.

Not only did the “USP saga”, as it came to be known, cause a major rift between Fiji and the other 12 USP-member countries, but it may have contributed to the narrow loss of Bainimarama’s FijiFirst Party (FFP) in the December 2022 election.

Bainimarama’s abuse of office charges included accusations of interfering with a police investigation into financial malpractices at USP. If convicted, he would face a maximum sentence of 17 years in jail.

• READ MORE: Fiji’s Bainimarama granted bail, ordered to remain in country
• Former Fiji PM Bainimarama and suspended police chief charged
• The USP saga

But there are also serious questions about the future of the party that he co-founded, and which won successive elections in 2014 and 2018 on the back of his popularity.

A day before his indictment, there were surreal scenes at the Suva Central Police Station, as police officers marched an ashen-faced Bainimarama to his cell to spend the night before his court appearance the next morning.

This, under the full glare of live media coverage, with journalists tripping over themselves to take pictures of the former military strongman, who installed himself as prime minister after the 2006 coup and ruled for 16 years straight.

Arrested, detained and charged alongside Bainimarama was his once-powerful police chief, Sitiveni Qiliho, who managed a wry smile for the cameras. Both were released on a surety of F$10,000 (about NZ$7300) after pleading not guilty to the charges.

Shut down police investigation
It is alleged that in 2019, the duo “arbitrarily and in abuse of the authority of their respective offices” shut down a police investigation into alleged irregularities at USP when former vice-chancellor Rajesh Chandra was in charge.

In November 2018, Chandra’s replacement, Professor Pal Ahluwalia, revealed large remuneration payments to certain USP senior staff, some running to hundreds of thousands of dollars. The Fiji government, unhappy with Ahluwalia’s attack on Chandra, counter-attacked by alleging irregularities in Ahluwalia’s own administration.

As the dispute escalated, the Fiji government suspended its annual grant to the USP in a bid to force an inquiry into its own allegations.

When an external audit by the NZ accountants BDO confirmed the original report’s findings, the USP executive committee, under the control of the then Fiji government appointees, suspended Ahluwalia in June 2020.

This was in defiance of the USP’s supreme decision-making body, the USP Council, which reinstated him within a week.

Samoa’s then Deputy Prime Minister Fiamē Naomi Mataʻafa (who is now prime minister, having won a heavily contested election of her own) said at the time that Ahluwalia’s suspension had been a “nonsense”.

The then Nauruan President Lionel Aingimea attacked a “small group” of Fiji officials for “hijacking” the 12-country regional university.

Students threatened boycott
The USP Students’ Association threatened a boycott of exams, while more than 500 signatures supporting the suspended vice-chancellor were collected and students protested across several of USP’s national campuses. All these events played out prominently in the regional news media as well as on social media platforms.

With Fiji’s national elections scheduled for the following year, the political toll was becoming obvious. However, Bainimarama’s government either did not see it, or did not care to see it.

Instead of backing off from what many saw as an unnecessary fight, it doubled down. In February 2021, around 15 government police and security personnel along with immigration officials staged a late-night raid on Professor Ahluwalia’s Suva home, detained him with his wife, Sandra Price, and put them in a car for the three-hour drive to Nadi International Airport where, deported, they were put on the first flight to Australia.

The move sent shockwaves in Fiji and the region.

To many, it looked like a government that had come to power in the name of a “clean-up campaign” against corruption was now indulging in a cover-up campaign instead. The USP saga became political fodder at opposition rallies, with one of their major campaign promises being to bring back Professor Ahluwalia and restore the unpaid Fiji government grant that stood at F$86 million (about NZ$62 million) at the time.

A month before the 2022 polls, a statement targeting the estimated 30,000 staff and student cohort at USP, their friends and families, urged them to vote against FijiFirst, which would go on to lose government by a single parliamentary vote to the tripartite coalition led by another former coup leader, Sitiveni Rabuka.

Albanese official visit
It was Rabuka who greeted Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese on his first official visit to Fiji last week. During talks at the Australian-funded Blackrock military camp, Albanese reportedly secured Rabuka’s support for the AUKUS deal.

Australia is keen for stability in Fiji, which has not had a smooth transition of power since independence, with democratically elected governments removed by coups in 1987, 2000 and 2006. Any disturbance in Fiji has the potential to upset the delicate balance in the region as a whole.

For Bainimarama and his followers, there is much to rue. His claimed agenda — to build national unity and racial equality and to rid Fiji of corruption — earned widespread support in 2014.

His margin of victory was much narrower in 2018 but Bainimarama managed to secure a majority in Parliament to lead the nation again.

His electoral loss in 2022 was followed by a series of dramatic events, which first saw Aiyaz Sayed-Khaiyum, his deputy in all but name, disqualified from holding his seat in Parliament.

Bainimarama went next, suspended for three years by Parliament’s privileges committee for a speech attacking head of state Ratu Wiliame Katonivere. He chose to resign as opposition leader.

Following his March 10 hearing, Bainimarama addressed the media and a few supporters outside court, adamant that he had served the country with “integrity” and with “the best interests” of all Fijians at heart.  The former leader even managed to smile for the cameras while surrounded by a group of followers.

With nearly double the personal votes of the sitting PM Rabuka under Fiji’s proportional representation voting system, Bainimarama’s supporters still harboured some hope that he could return as the country’s leader one day.

However, his health is not the best. He is now out of Parliament and bogged down by legal troubles. Is the sun now setting on the era of Bainimarama and FijiFirst?

Dr Shailendra Bahadur Singh is a frequent contributor to Asia Pacific Report and is on the editorial board of the associated Pacific Journalism Review. This article was originally published by the Lowy Institute’s The Interpreter and is republished here with the author’s permission.

Fiji’s 14 December 2022 election will go down as a momentous occasion in the nation’s history — including for potential impacts on Suva’s diplomatic ties with Pacific partners.

Immediate tasks identified by new Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka’s tripartite coalition include the revival of the pandemic-scarred economy, the re-examination of foreign relations, and the restoration of democratic institutions, which never quite recovered from the battering of the 2006 coup.

The election ended the 16-year reign of the FijiFirst government headed by Voreqe Bainimarama, the country’s larger-than-life figure after seizing power in 2006, before winning elections in 2014 and 2018.

• READ MORE: Steven Ratuva: What an election in Fiji – some reflections, lessons
• Other Fiji politics reports

Bainimarama’s military background coupled with Fiji’s “coup culture” had raised concerns about a smooth transfer of power amid fears about the military being called to assist police.

For two weeks after the new government was finally sworn-in on Christmas Eve on a slim, three seat majority in the 55-member house, the country was on edge as tensions between the former and successor governments intensified.

Bainimarama’s actions suggested that he would not leave quietly. Not only did Bainimarama fail to concede, he did not bother to congratulate the new prime minister, as per democratic tradition.

To the contrary, Bainimarama upped the ante with belligerent media statements claiming the ruling coalition was engaging in “repressive conduct”, attacking the values and principles of the 2013 constitution, and that the country was “reliving the dark ages”.

Sharp rebuke
This was met with a sharp rebuke from Rabuka, who accused Bainimarama of bombarding the country with lies and trying to create racial disharmony alongside former attorney-general Aiyaz Sayed-Khaiyum.

Police confirmed receiving a complaint against Bainimarama for “inciteful” statements, with a border alert issued for Sayed-Khaiyum should he return to Fiji for allegedly “inciting communal antagonism”.

It was a remarkable turn of events for what had been the two most powerful men in the FijiFirst government, which had ruled with an iron grip yet could only secure 42.5 per cent of the vote in December.

The government diffused a potentially risky situation, and despite a stand-off over the role of the police chief, seems to be in control so far.

The actions of military commander Major General Jone Kalouniwai have been crucial. In an address at the military’s end-of-year parade just a week before the elections, Kalaouniwai had ordered his troops to honour the democratic process and respect the wishes of voters.

Kalaouniwai’s pledge is significant in light of the description of Fiji by longstanding Pacific academic Professor Stewart Firth as a democracy by military permission. This was in reference to Fiji’s 2013 constitution mandating that “It shall be the overall responsibility of the Republic of Fiji Military Forces to ensure at all times the security, defence and well-being of Fiji and all Fijians”.

‘Hybrid regime’
Professor Firth calls this provision a “capacious definition of the military’s role that could easily be invoked to justify another coup”. In 2017, the Economist Intelligence Unit categorised Fiji as a “hybrid regime”, while the 2022 Freedom House report rated Fiji only as “partly free”.

Should the new government remain cohesive and the present situation prevail, it will mark Fiji’s first smooth transition of power. Rabuka staged the first two pro-indigenous Fijian coups in 1987 against perceived Indo-Fijian dominance. During his prime ministership from 1992–99, the former military commander had a change of heart and adopted a multiracial stance by forging a partnership with the late National Federation Party (NFP) leader Jai Ram Reddy to usher in the more equitable 1997 constitution, only to be rejected at the 1999 polls.

For Rabuka, re-claiming government is a vindication of his partnership with the NFP and its current leader, Deputy Prime Minister Biman Prasad. In his pre-election campaign Rabuka stressed the importance of social harmony in a country with “so many races, so many religions”.

Rabuka’s multiracial credentials in this ethnically tense country will be put to the test during his term.

The new government’s 100-day “first order of business” emphasises not just the economy, but democracy and human rights. A pledge to ensure “separation of powers” in crucial institutions such as the judiciary, “strengthen human rights”, and review the draconian 2010 Media Industry Development Act will be welcomed by international partners such as the United States, which is assembling a “community of democracies” to counter growing authoritarianism.

How the government handles its diplomatic relationships will be the focus of regional attention. Whereas the Bainimarama government enjoyed close relations with China, all three leaders of the coalition government have stated that they preferred to align with countries with democratic traditions.

While campaigning, Rabuka indicated that his government would forge closer ties with Fiji’s traditional partners, Australia and New Zealand, while distancing from China. But in a subsequent interview with the ABC in his first week in office, he changed tone, chiding Australia and the United States for their “colonial” mindset while praising China for seeing “us as just development partners”.

Largest development partner
While Australia is the largest development partner in the region, China remains an important actor in Fiji and the Pacific — a reliable source of development finance and aid, a market for the Pacific’s resources sector, including fisheries, and a growing source of tourists. Given its unprecedented debt challenges in the wake of the pandemic, Fiji is unlikely to scorn any source of development funds.

At a “New Approaches to Economic Progress” panel discussion in Suva last week, Professor Prasad, who also holds the finance portfolio, stated that the “task ahead of us is huge” and announced the forthcoming budget to be released in about six months will target job creation, the high cost of living and investor confidence.

Professor Prasad emphasised that ultimately Fiji’s progress hinges on social cohesion and political stability. Building consensus on major policy issues, equitable sharing of economic benefits, keeping the coalition intact and preventing the collapse of government will be the key challenges.

Dr Shailendra Bahadur Singh is associate professor and head of the journalism programme at the University of the South Pacific. He is a research associate and board member of the Pacific Journalism Review and Asia Pacific Report and a member of the Asia Pacific Media Network. This article was first published in The Interpreter and is republished with permission.

This poignant photo by Max Vosailagi captures Fiji’s fixation with rugby sevens, with winning a second Olympic Gold last night by beating New Zealand 27-12 in the men’s final.

Two young boys, glued to what is apparently a TV screen through a neighbourhood front door during the Tokyo Olympic qualifiers, oblivious to their surroundings.

Covid restrictions could have prevented the boys from getting closer to the action.

• READ MORE: Fiji dedicates Olympic sevens win to struggling people back home
• Other Tokyo Olympics Pacific stories

Some quick Fiji reflections:

• The sevens addiction starts young;
• It’s inescapable — during game time every house with a TV will be tuned in;
• If your house doesn’t have a TV, not a problem — the neighbour’s house probably has one;
• Sevens is escapism from the country’s myriad problems, from politics to poverty.
• It is more than escapism — it’s a career and income for players, not to mention the strongest uniting force in a country beset by ethnic tensions; and
• Every young Fijian dreams of donning the national white team jersey one day.

Due to Covid restrictions, some of us had to watch from afar.

For the love of Rugby #teamFiji #Olympics #Rugby pic.twitter.com/hiKmrA0COE

— Max Vosailagi (@realVosailagi) July 28, 2021

Fiji is also playing in the women’s rugby sevens Olympic competition which begins today and ends with the gold medal match on Saturday.

Dr Shailendra Singh is associate professor and coordinator of the journalism programme at the University of the South Pacific. This comment is from Dr Singh’s social media posts and is republished by Asia Pacific Report with permission.

Perth in Australia was plunged into a three-day lockdown after community transmission was linked to a returnee from India.

Fiji finds itself in similar situation due to a returnee, also from India.

Australian officials say overseas travel is allowed only for “the most profound humanitarian or compassionate reasons, under strictest of circumstances”.

• READ MORE: 12 new covid-19 cases in Fiji
• Stopping the virus spread – Stanley Simpson
• Australia suspends travel from India

What about Fiji? Under what circumstances is overseas travel allowed? Under what circumstances was the India returnee allowed to travel in the first place – do citizens have a right to know?

Australia has recognised the risks and effectively banned international travel, even though thousands of Australians will be unable to return home for now.

What is the Fiji response to international travel in light of the latest infections from abroad with 12 new cases yesterday? Are we tightening things up or not? The citizens need to know what the government is doing.

Reports indicate Australia adopted varying responses with regards to high-risk countries, including North America and Europe.

Tightening up
Given the crisis in India, Australia has taken steps to further tighten departures after it was found people were travelling for weddings, funerals and sports.

Critics have condemned the Australian government for what they see as its laxity, and for risking lives and dealing a potential blow to the economy.

What about Fiji? On what grounds are people travelling? Were people allowed to travel for weddings, religious reasons and for funerals? We need answers.

How big a risk is it to us as a nation to allow return travel from hot spots like India and the US?

In light of the new cases, have the international travel guidelines been changed or are they still the same?

Dr Shailendra Singh is senior lecturer and coordinator of the journalism programme at the University of the South Pacific. This comment is from Dr Singh’s social media posts and is republished with permission.

The University of the South Pacific’s recent 50th anniversary marked 30 years of existence for its regional journalism programme. In an eventful journey, the programme weathered military coups, overcame financial hardships and shrugged off academic snobbery to get this far.

The programme started in Suva in 1988, with Commonwealth funding, and a handful of students to its name. It has produced more than 200 graduates serving the Pacific and beyond in various media and communication roles.

USP journalism graduates have produced award-winning journalism, started their own media companies and localised various positions at regional organisations once reserved for expatriates.

READ MORE: Fiji Report – a day in the life of Wansolwara newspaper

The beginning was hardly auspicious: founding coordinator, the late Australian-based Kiwi academic Murray Masterton, recalled that from the outset, some USP academics felt that journalism was a vocational course with no place in a university.

Such disdain turned out to be the least of Dr Masterton’s problems: plans to offer certificate-level courses in 1987 were almost derailed by Lieutenant Colonel Sitiveni Rabuka’s pro-indigenous coups.

Masterton persevered in the face of this political earthquake – the South Pacific’s first military takeover of a nation – and after some delays, he got the programme off the ground. It was a significant development in a region where journalists had little opportunity to attain formal qualifications.

And it was not without irony – the Pacific’s first regional journalism programme, a symbol of media freedom, introduced in a climate of great media repression in Fiji.

Another cloud
Just years after establishing its position, the programme’s future came under another cloud when Commonwealth sponsorship ran out. An injection of French government funds in 1993 provided a new lease of life, with the programme upgraded to a BA double-major degree.

The three-year grant was supervised by François Turmel, former BBC World Service editor in London. During those lean years, Turmel often dug into his pockets to fund some activities.
When French funding ended in 1996, USP took over the programme, appointing another Kiwi coordinator in David Robie, a former international journalist, then head of the University of Papua New Guinea (UPNG) journalism programme.

During his term from 1998–2002, Robie made major curriculum changes by integrating the student training newspaper, Wansolwara, into the assessment and introducing professional work attachments with news media organisations.

He was also the first journalism educator to gain a PhD (from USP) in New Zealand and the Pacific, returning to Suva to graduate in 2003 in history/politics. He tells the story of the early decades of Pacific journalism education in his 2004 book Mekim Nius: South Pacific media, politics and education.

In 2001, I joined the USP journalism programme as the first full-time local assistant lecturer. I was already a Fiji and Pacific news media professional and I went on to become the first local to head the journalism programme.

After graduating with my PhD from the University of Queensland in 2016, I would become the first local PhD to teach journalism at USP. I saw to the expansion of the programme with a boost in enrolments and improved facilities to cater for the new demand, including the recruitment of two local teaching assistants.

Under my watch, Wansolwara continued to win major awards for excellence in journalism.

Recruitment of locals
The recruitment of locals was an important step in building local capacity to carry out teaching and research and provide support for Wansolwara.

The newspaper, founded in 1996 by lecturer Philip Cass, an Aussie, and a number of students, became well-established as the programme’s flagship publication. Wansolwara literally means “one ocean one people.” For founding student editor Stanley Simpson, the paper was a creation of young minds who “wanted to do things their way”.

Student training newspapers are regarded as important strategic assets, and Wansolwara has certainly played crucial roles at crucial times. The paper came to prominence for its coverage of the May 2000 nationalist coup, and the ensuing hostage crisis in Parliament, when the deposed Chaudhry government was held in captivity for 56 days.

Professor Robie has described the 2000 coup coverage as “one of the most challenging” examples of campus-based journalism. The students’ reporting put the overseas parachute journalists to shame, as recounted by Dr Cass: “Much of the outside coverage seemed to be done by people who were just taking the plotters’ statements at face value or else were writing their reports beside the swimming pool at the Travelodge, so the students were giving an alternative view that in many cases was much closer to what was going on.”

Not everyone appreciated the coup coverage. Certain USP academics concerned about security felt that student journalists should practice “simulated journalism”. The smashing-up of the nearby Fiji Television studios by rampaging coup supporters was the last straw for USP, which shut down the Wansolwara news website called Pacific Journalism Online.

However, Dr Robie was able to arrange for a “mirror” site at the Sydney University of Technology (UTS) to allow the coverage to continue. Wansolwara won the Journalism Education Association of Australia “best publication” in the region award for its efforts.

It was one in a long line of journalism association, as well as regional and Fiji national, awards for excellence in journalism. Such honours, along with a healthy research output, has long since silenced jibes about USP journalism’s fitness as an academic course.

Under the radar
In the post-2006 Voreqe Bainimarama coup years, as media restrictions tightened, Wansolwara, as a student newspaper, was able to remain under the radar and operate more freely than the mainstream media.

Student reporting in the face of risks was exemplary. The April 2009 issue, which included a four-page critique of the coup, was still at press when the punitive Public Emergency Regulations were introduced.

The Solomon Islands student editor at the time, Leni Dalavera, phoned me in the dead of night, concerned that the students risked arrest. Delavera was assured that the authorities were highly unlikely to move against the students, and that the lecturers were responsible for the publication.

The thrills-frills of coup coverage aside, student journalists are also challenged in major ways during the so-called regular beats. A 2016 Pacific Journalism Review journal article by Singh and Eliki Drugunalevu, examined how USP student journalists deal with backlash from peers offended by their coverage.

This article shows how USP’s journalism students changed their initial feelings of fear, hurt and self-doubt to a sense of pride and accomplishment. Students felt they developed resilience, fortitude and a deeper understanding of the watchdog journalism ethos – learning outcomes which would not have been achievable through classroom teaching alone.

This reinforces the idea that students should not be cocooned, or made to practice ‘simulated journalism’, since they learn from dealing with confronting situations, a reality in journalism.

Students like Simpson, who bagged a string of national and regional awards as a professional, cut his teeth as a Wansolwara reporter.

Crucial role
The achievements of staff and students, the unique research undertaken by the programme into regional media issues – which feeds back into teaching – and journalism’s crucial role in the region, have cemented the programme’s position at USP.

In an interview in the November 2016 edition of Wansolwara, USP vice-chancellor and president, Professor Rajesh Chandra, pledged that journalism would remain part of the university’s future.

Chandra, who had strongly supported the establishment of journalism at USP, stated that good journalism was critical for an open and truly democratic society and USP’s role in training good journalists was crucial.

Professor Chandra’s comments underscore not just the journalism programme’s important role at USP, but its contribution to the region as a whole. Such vindication is welcome news for all those who fought for the programme and contributed to its development.

Dr Shailendra Singh is coordinator of USP’s journalism programme. This article was first published as a chapter in the recent book, A University for the Pacific: 50 Years of USP, edited by Dr Jacqueline Leckie. It is republished here with the permission of the author, editor and USP.

• Mekim Nius: South Pacific media, politics and education

Climate change seems to be getting increasingly more news coverage recently, which is a positive outcome—on at least some levels.

But how engaging is the material?

A core challenge with climate-change reporting is not only generating sufficient public interest, but sustaining it.

This is partly because climate change used to lack the immediacy of hard news—the here and now effect—although this is changing, as the damaging effects of the phenomenon become more apparent.

Many local Pacific climate change news stories seem to rely on speeches and press statements.

Yes, journalists can fill news holes quite easily in this manner to meet deadline imperatives.
But is this style and nature of reporting really capturing people’s attention, assuming that is the goal?

For example, the speeches of many Pacific Island leaders receive widespread coverage.

Such speeches are usually targeted at fellow world leaders, which is quite necessary and legitimate in some respects.

Lavish coverage
Other news stories are usually based on international meetings and conferences. They receive lavish coverage. These are big and important stages, and they should get fair representation.

But to what extent are local audiences connecting with these stories? That’s assuming that local audiences matter in climate change.

How relevant and compelling are the speeches and press statements to local ears? Is the oratory having any impact, or starting to sound bland and repetitive? This is something worth considering if the idea is to inform people and mobilise them into action.

Once, we used to complain about the scarcity of coverage. However, slanted and saturated coverage of a certain type is also problematic in its own way.

The point I’m making is that the media’s challenge is to make stories interesting and relevant; otherwise readers, listeners and viewers may simply switch off.

Capturing and holding audience attention will require more than just republishing statements and speeches ad nauseam.

The gratuitous coverage given to presidents, prime ministers, diplomats, heads of regional organisations and other bureaucrats needs to be balanced with coverage of grassroots people who are actually experiencing the effects of climate change first-hand.

Compelling stories
This would make the stories more compelling, and the problem appear more real, rather than far-removed and abstract.

Why not cover more human interest stories, rather than bore readers to death with statistics, speeches and scientific jargon only?

If the speeches have to be used, at least derive some original ideas from them; for example, the blame game is rife with developed world leaders accused of inaction, and rightly so.

But are Pacific Island leaders walking the talk or not? Have we examined this issue sufficiently enough, or are we just content with speech making? For example, mangroves are one of the best protection against sea level rise.

Yet there are reports of mangrove destruction, even in the face of big international meetings.

Large tracts have reportedly been cleared in Lami, Wailekutu, Nasese, Vatuwaqa and elsewhere, for the sake of industrial development, tourism projects and urbanisation.

Professor Wadan Narsey, Dr Ajantha Perer and others have written about this.

National Green Strategy
How does this trend figure in our national Green Sustainable Growth Strategy?

Does it contradict the grand sounding speeches at major international meetings?

Also, does Fiji have a national mangrove replanting scheme? Who would finance any such undertaking?

How much is allocated to such projects compared to meetings and conferences?

Are grassroots projects sufficiently funded or is the money gobbled up by professional junketeers?

Some time back there was a moratorium on mangrove destruction. But why not a total ban, as in many other countries?

My point is, instead of just reporting speeches and statements, we need to conduct our own research independently. We need to formulate the hard questions and seek answers from leaders; otherwise there is a risk of getting too caught up in the hype of big meetings and high-profile speakers.

Yes, such meetings are important for various reasons, including crucial and binding international treaties. The meetings attract some very learned people who know their stuff.
Pacific leaders have vital roles at such meetings, and they have achieved some outstanding results.

Fair and balanced
Still, the coverage should be fair and balanced, rather than skewed and elitist.

Reporters should not lose touch with the realities on the ground or the fundamentals of journalism—to be skeptical and question things, rather than rely on handouts alone.

The job remains the same—keep governments and leaders accountable, rather than cut-paste speeches.

In journalism, single sources are risky and inadequate, so also cite the work of other researchers and commentators, for the sake of balance—which is a requirement under the 2010 Media Industry Development Decree anyway!

Use the information to derive questions and grill leaders; otherwise there is a risk that the coverage will become merely a PR exercise, which would be both wasteful and counterproductive.

The idea is to make climate change and its effects relevant locally to help comprehend and develop a proper consciousness of the problem on a global level—a problem which the scientific community describes as lethal for earth and its inhabitants.

Dr Shailendra Singh is a senior lecturer and coordinator of the University of the South Pacific Journalism Programme. This article is based on a presentation by the writer at a special briefing for journalists on climate change on 18 September 2017 at USP.

• Timely climate media strategy to empower citizens – Pacific Journalism Review

A Fiji Diary: Reminiscences and Reflections of a Newsman is a selection of revised and updated writings by Vijendra Kumar, a former editor of The Fiji Times, compiled into an engaging and highly readable book.

The 13 sections and 100-odd pages combine Kumar’s personal experiences and journalistic views to provide unique insights into some major events that shook Fiji, and shaped its future.

The portrayal is enriched by anecdotes of Kumar’s encounters with some important personalities who, for better or worse, influenced the country’s destiny. Fiji’s founding Prime Minister Ratu Sir Kamisese Mara features quite heavily. Competing with him for space is Sitiveni Rabuka of the 1987 coup notoriety.

At the narrative’s heart are the vivid accounts of Kumar’s remarkable life story while growing up in Nadi. What emerges is a fascinating portrait of the simplicities as well as the complexities of a life lived in Fiji — a depiction many Fijians would readily identify with.

Kumar started in journalism humbly enough: as a self-taught, underpaid, and sometimes unpaid proofreader cum reporter/editor of the National Federation Party (NFP) mouthpiece, the weekly Pacific Review. Duties included errands to collect editorial copy from party leader, the late AD Patel’s home. In the book, the prominent Nadi lawyer comes across as somewhat snooty — a pukka sahib in Kumar’s words — and rather tardy with deadlines, often giving Kumar the runaround.

When he plucked up the courage to ask for his pay, Kumar was shown the empty office till. On a lucky week, he received $25. This saw Kumar take up high school teaching, a job he stuck with for 12 years, before returning to his true calling as a reporter, but this time at The Fiji Times, in 1969.

Within six years, Kumar had become the first local editor at the iconic national daily, up till then largely an expatriate stronghold. His resignation in 1991 and subsequent migration to Australia was a consequence of Fiji’s first coup in 1987. Kumar dwells on the coup at length, which is hardly surprising, since the coup’s impact was not just stunning, but also enduring.

Trauma felt deeply
The trauma was felt deeply, both at the national and personal levels.

During his time in Australia, Kumar served as a subeditor at the Courier Mail in Brisbane, before retiring in 2001. It was a remarkable journey for a descendent of Indian indentured labourers; one who left home at the tender age of six to live with his aunt to gain access to better education.

Kumar’s insights matter: As the editor of The Fiji Times, he was at the vantage of major developments in the country’s history, observing them unfold, interpreting them, and reporting their impacts nationally. In the first chapter, “Goodbye to Paradise”, it’s apparent that even a newspaperman like him was taken in by Fiji’s relative post-independence calm.

The mirage was shattered by Rabuka’s nationalist coup. In Kumar’s view, the coup turned Fiji into a “purgatory for half its people”.

The post-coup media crackdown created a precarious environment for journalists. Kumar writes that the editorship was always a “hot seat”, but after the coup the “heat became almost unbearable”. After four years of “harassment, intimidation and outright threats, he felt that he could no longer discharge his professional duties with ‘honestly and without fear’.”

Kumar expresses disappointments and regrets without rancour. His measured analysis demonstrates an astute knowledge of Fiji politics and a deep respect for Fijian culture. “The Fall of a Titan” was his tribute to Ratu Mara after his death in April 2004.

Kumar notes that the Rabuka coups not only signalled the death of democracy, but also the fall of a titan in Ratu Mara, who hastened his own demise by failing first to condemn the coup, and then, by leading the post-coup regime.

Coups replete with irony
Coups are by nature replete with irony. Mara was accused of being behind the very coup that, in the eyes of many, tarnished his record. The suspicions were fuelled by none other than a brooding Rabuka, who said he felt used and betrayed by the coup’s unseen power-brokers.

In Kumar’s view, Ratu Mara “dedicated his life to his country” and will be “kindly judged by history. The Pacific Island states have produced no greater son,” he writes. But Ratu Mara critics, who accuse him of a litany of sins — ranging from racism to corruption, and crony capitalism to political opportunism — would strongly disagree with Kumar.

Like many a leader, Ratu Mara was a controversial figure. The team of reporters that Kumar headed did not spare Mara, even though Kumar had gotten to know him personally. If Kumar’s portrayal in the book sounds forgiving, it’s probably because of hindsight and reflection.

His evaluation possibly stems from a more holistic analysis of Ratu Mara’s record, and a healthier appreciation of human frailties. Even Gandhi, the “Mahatma” or “great soul” is said to have had skeletons in his closet.

Ratu Mara tried to be a political centrist, and if he failed, the fault wasn’t his alone. The middle ground in an ethnically-divided country like Fiji is a precariously fine line. It’s a slippery slope that has claimed quite a few political scalps, such as the doomed multi-racial coalition headed by opposition leader Jai Ram Reddy and Prime Minister Rabuka in 1999. Rabuka’s fall in particular added to the ironies of the 1987 coup.

Kumar highlights a number of such political absurdities. His soft side surfaces in his tribute to the late Irene Jai Narayan. The fiery Narayan was shunned by her National Federation Party electorate after she crossed the floor to join Ratu Mara’s Alliance Party in 1987.

Kumar not only dissects Narayan’s defection, but he also highlights her distinguished service to the country. “She lit a spark among women,” he states.

Fiji academic, Professor Satendra Nandan pins down Kumar’s style best in the book’s foreword: Kumar “provides a balanced picture with a rare generosity of mind, but often with sharp and discriminating insights”.

Highly-regarded editor
This attitude explains why Kumar was a highly-regarded newspaper editor, even in the face of growing scepticism about the ethics of a market-driven media, increasingly locked in fierce ratings and circulation wars.

Academics like McNair and Fallow have drawn attention to the emergence of an increasingly aggressive form of journalism that has given rise to a “decline of deference”, with political leaders considered prized targets. This trend marks a wide paradigm shift in political reporting — from “healthy scepticism” and an “independent, adversarial relationship with politics”, to a “corrosively cynical and hyper-adversarial” posture.

Media researcher Spiess calls it “attack dog journalism” — an aggressive reporting strain that goes beyond the watchdog role and harms “fledgling democracies” by “nurturing intolerance and diminishing faith” in leaders.

Some media analysts partly attribute the fall of Prime Minister Mahendra Chaudhry’s government in 2000 to media hyper-adversarialism. Others see media hyper-adversarialism as just a theory. But even as a theory, media hyper-adversarialism is pertinent for a vulnerable, multi-ethnic democracy such as Fiji.

In Fiji, sound and mature editorial judgments are crucial for public trust and confidence, especially in crisis situations. In this respect, it’s likely that Kumar’s clear-thinking and foresightedness helped steer The Fiji Times through the dangerous 1987 coup waters without sinking into oblivion.

The second coup in September 1987 forced the paper’s closure for seven weeks. It reopened after direct representations to Rabuka, who only asked that the paper not publish “inflammatory” material. Regrettably, Fiji’s second national newspaper, the Fiji Sun, which had also bravely criticised Rabuka’s actions, closed for good after the first coup.

While forced out of Fiji by circumstances, Kumar, like many exiles, is still emotionally attached to the country. His multicultural outlook is reflected in his qualified support for Voreqe Bainimarama’s 2006 coup. In “The Rise of a Reformer”, first published in 2012, Kumar sees Prime Minister Bainimarama’s mission as reforming a flawed, racially-based political system and building a stronger democracy.

Overall, Kumar’s disdain of a coup culture is evident. He writes: “Although coup-makers’ corpses eventually end up rotting on the dung heap of history, the countries experiencing such dislocation continue to wallow in a social, economic and political quagmire for a long time.”

Kumar then poses a poignant question: “Can Fiji go against the tide of history?” That is no doubt the silent prayer of many a coup-jaded Fijian.

A Fiji Diary: Reminiscences and Reflections of a Newsman, by Vijendra Kumar. Brisbane, Qld: Samford. 2016. 109 pages. ISBN 9780646957395. Available (or can be ordered) at the USP Bookshop, Laucala Campus, Suva.

Dr Shailendra Singh was a journalist at The Fiji Times from 1989 to 1996. He is now the senior lecturer and coordinator of the USP Journalism Programme.

• Fiji journalism pioneer remembers: Vijendra Kumar

Above all, David Robie’s Don’t Spoil My Beautiful Face: Media, Mayhem  and Human Rights in the Pacific is a damning indictment of the parlous state of affairs in parts of this region.

The book is also a telling account of the continuous failure of leadership on a fairly grand scale, with ordinary people bearing the brunt of it.

Dr Robie, professor of journalism at the Auckland University of Technology and director of the Pacific Media Centre, deals with the vital issues of environmental degradation, media censorship, social chaos and human suffering (largely caused by bad governance), various types of violent and nonviolent conflicts, and colonialism and neocolonialism.

Allegedly apathetic international and local media also attract some flak. Robie, who has a long record of service in the Pacific Islands, laments that a region with so much promise due to its relative tranquility, natural beauty, and richness of culture has been in such a prolonged state of decline, despite the postindependence optimisms.

That tranquility has been shattered by coups, civil uprisings, and corruption; the region’s pristine environments damaged by nuclear testing, wanton resource exploitation, and the spectre of climate change; and indigenous cultures threatened by the twin forces of neocolonialism and neoliberal economics.

These adversities are superimposed on growing incidences of human rights abuses and draconian  media legislation in some countries.

The looming threats of global warming and sea-level rise only complicate matters.

Robie has been reporting these trends in the Asia-Pacific region since the 1980s, both as a journalist and as a media educator, covering self-determination for indigenous minorities in New Caledonia, the struggles in Timor-Leste and West Papua, the Bougainville rebellion, nuclear testing in French Polynesia and the Marshall  Islands, and the ethnically motivated coups in Fiji.

Documented conflicts
Some of these conflicts are documented in his earlier books: Blood on the Banner (1980) highlighted indigenous Pacific Islanders’ struggle against the remnants of colonialism, while Tu Galala: Social Change in the Pacific (1992) depicted a continuing battle against environmental catastrophe, communal unrest, growing militarisation,  ongoing  poverty, colonialism, and neocolonialism.

In Don’t Spoil My Beautiful Face, Robie reproduces some of his previous writings as a yardstick and a backdrop for deeper insights into the Pacific’s seemingly intractable problems. Reflecting on his two-and-a-half decades of Asia-Pacific coverage, Robie intones, “Sadly, not a lot has changed” (page 6).

He adds, “Political independence has not necessarily rid the Pacific of the problems that it faces, and in many cases, Pacific political leaders are themselves part of the problem” (27). One of the more startling statistics, at least for the uninitiated, is the deaths of an estimated 120,000 Pacific Islanders in various disputes over the past quarter-century, plus another 200,000 when Timor-Leste is included (311).

If the narrative sounds depressing, it is regrettably all  too predictable: long-term ethnic and political tensions coupled with low growth rates and underdevelopment are usually fodder for violent conflict in fragile states (see Securing a Peaceful Pacific, by John Henderson and Greg Watson  [2005]).

Robie is forthright in putting the blame for these serious issues squarely on various corrupt Pacific Island leaders, whom he views as having been part of the problem for far too long. But it is not only rogue Pacific Island leaders who are causing problems.

Robie also faults leaders from developed countries for their inaction in the face of what he describes as a litany of tortures, murders, exploitation, rapes, military raids, and arbitrary arrests. Most affected is West Papua, where the brutal repression of the native Melanesians by the Indonesian security services is well documented.

The book reminds us why the Pacific is still struggling despite copious amounts of bilateral aid over the decades. It is in the interest of nuclear powers France and the United States to keep their territories in a dependent state in order to further their own military, economic, and geopolitical ambitions.

Exploitation ‘normalised’?
The question is whether the exploitation of Island countries by economically and militarily powerful nations has become normalised. Recently, Australia and New Zealand remained unmoved in the face of Pacific Islander anger over the two countries’ apparent intransigence regarding a joint proposal by Pacific Island nations for a tougher global target on greenhouse gas emissions. Is the world resigned to the bullying and maltreatment of Pacific Island nations by the bigger powers?

Robie does not hide his disappointment with what he sees as the media’s failure to tackle these crucial issues.

He feels that the international media ignore or underreport major issues, such as Indonesian repression of West Papua and the assassination of journalists in the Philippines. In his eyes, Australian media failed to sufficiently probe their country’s 2006 security treaty with Indonesia. Robie insists that the treaty led to Australia’s overt repression of pro-independence Papuan activists.

To be fair to the media, the Indonesian government has banned foreign journalists from West Papua for years. However, Robie argues that the problem goes deeper. He links it to the media’s commercially driven priorities, which he feels supersede social, humanitarian, and public-interest obligations.

Under this journalistic framework, West Papua would be deemed too costly an assignment for sustained coverage, financially and politically.

Don’t Spoil My Beautiful Face tries to prod the media’s conscience by highlighting the suffering in the region. Robie advocates a new, more thorough, considered, and inclusive reporting approach, which he describes as “critical development journalism.”

This proposed framework sources grassroots rather than just elite views, emphasises conflict resolution,  promotes  human rights, and supports development (325–330).

Empowered media
Robie’s views are consistent with a growing recognition among some policy makers that an empowered media could play an important role in regional development, especially in politically fragile Island societies. However, new ideas often face resistance.

As a result of challenging the orthodoxy, Robie has attracted criticism from some traditionalists, who believe that concepts such as “peace journalism” contravene media objectivity, what with Bainimarama’s military-backed government in Fiji touting its version of “journalism of hope,” fueling suspicions about government control of the media under the guises of stability and development.

Robie is adamant that critical development journalism is not soft journalism, and neither would it pander to political slogans such as “cultural sensitivity,” which he sees as  a cover-up for abuse of power.

To the contrary, Robie envisions an approach based on a greater level of intensive journalism focused on exposing the truth, reporting on alternatives, and offering solutions. Robie’s central thesis is that the Pacific is caught in a vicious cycle of conflicts and underdevelopment.

Traditional subsistence lifestyles have been under sustained pressure from globalisation and other forces. The media are duty-bound to keep track of these trends and draw attention to them, but their response has largely been inadequate.

Robie is calling for a new media strategy, based on greater journalistic effort, commitment, and foresight. Some may question whether such a new direction is even possible, given media’s entrenched, deadline-driven, profit-focused economic model.

These ideological arguments aside, the post–Cold War trend  of mayhem in the Pacific demands investigation into the media-politics-conflict nexus in the Pacific context. Don’t Spoil My Beautiful Face seeks to fill this gap.

Dr Shailendra Singh is a senior lecturer and coordinator of journalism at the University of the South Pacific. This review was commissioned by The Contemporary Pacific journal and has been republished with permission.

• Don’t Spoil My Beautiful Face: Media, Mayhem and Human Rights in the Pacific, by David Robie. Auckland: Little Island Press. [Second edition.] ISBN 978-1-8774- 8425-4; 363 pages, maps, notes, bibliography, index. Paper, NZ$40.00.

It’s a real honour, and privilege, to be here this evening. The theme for my World Press Freedom Day talk is: Access to information and fundamental freedoms – this is your right.

From the outset, an important point needs to be re-emphasised: news media is the major conduit for the public’s access to information.

Some vested interests have attempted to differentiate between media freedom and the freedoms of the public at large.

In reality, the two are inseparable, even when accounting for media’s imperfections, and structural weakness.

In the greater scheme of things, the old adage — media freedom is your freedom — is very much true, regardless of what some might have us believe.

The media’s fundamental role is to dig up information, and bring it to your attention. Usually it’s information certain people do not want you see.

Sometimes, we take for granted, even forget, how critical, this ferreting role is. Then, we are given a stark, jarring reminder.

The Panama Papers
I am referring to the Panama Papers: The New York Daily describes the scandal as the biggest journalistic leak ever — more than 11 million documents — unveiling, a global web of financial corruption

World leaders, government workers, billionaires, and celebrities are in the thick of it. Here’s an example of the falsehood, we see time and again, when such matters are exposed:

Some leaders, who previously spoke out against similar tax evasion schemes, are directly implicated in the scam.

Usually, it is such hypocritical leaders, and their functionaries, who tell us that media freedom is self-serving; that it is distinct from citizen freedom. This is simply good old divide-and-rule tactic, to hide things from us.

The Panama Papers wouldn’t be public if not for a whistleblower, and the work by the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists.

What can we learn from this latest, grubby scandal?

For one, we are reminded, that such is the natural order of things, the powerful will exploit the weak, and the rich will exploit the poor, given half the chance.

Two, we again realise that information will not be handed over to us on a platter.

No illusions
Have no illusions: governments, big business and other vested interests will not voluntarily surrender information. They will fight tooth and nail to suppress it.

On our part, we will have to work and fight, as always, to secure and uphold, our right to information. As history shows, this is a never-ending battle, with media and journalists, at the forefront

Which brings me back to my earlier point — media freedom is indeed your freedom — so please support it.

I now turn to the local context. With regards to today’s topic, we heard some really good news from Parliament last week. The Attorney-General, Aiyaz Sayed-Khaiyum, confirmed that the Freedom of Information Bill would be tabled in the next sitting.

This is a momentous and commendable development.  The premise of such Bills is to make government more transparent and more accountable.

It is a participatory mechanism that empowers citizens by giving access to the inner workings of government. The hope is that greater public scrutiny will keep a check on corruption.

However, examples in countries like South Africa, Malawi and India — to name a few — show that the mere existence of a law does not guarantee access.

FOI problems
Some problems include:

• Low public awareness about the right to information, and how to use this right

• Outright refusal to provide requested information

• Charging excessive fees

• Complicated process

• Creaky infrastructure

• Poor record-keeping, and;

• So-called “lost” files

When the Bill becomes law, the Fiji government needs to demonstrate its commitment by dedicating sufficient resources for its implementation. Unless the ideas in the law are brought into actual practice, it will be useless.

As I mentioned before, media is the major enabler when it comes to the public’s right to information. So media should not only have free access to information, they should be able to publish material without fear of reprisal.

As such, the lifting of fines and jail terms for journalists in the media decree is a positive step by government. Next, government should consider abolishing fines for media companies, and fines and jail terms for editors and publishers.

Due to these punitive measures, it’s questionable whether media will have the drive to fully exercise their powers under the proposed Freedom of Information Bill. If media is cowered, then the proposed law is useless and irrelevant.

Barred content
Another problematic decree provision bars content “against public interest or order; against the national interest; or content that creates communal discord”.

This provision, said to be modelled on the Singapore media law, is well-meaning, but vague. Government view of what is for, or against the public interest, can be quite different from the media view.

For instance, the Rabuka government depicted coverage of the $300 million National Bank of Fiji scandal as an attack against an indigenous government. But the media reckoned the coverage was a legitimate part of their watchdog role.

Under the current Media Decree, the Rabuka government could have possibly prosecuted the media for doing their job.

It is understandable why various Fiji leaders invoke the name of Singapore. The comparisons with Fiji are tempting, and quite valid in some ways.

Like Fiji, Singapore, is a multiethnic country. It was poor, impoverished, and in turmoil in the 1960s. Ethnic riots, partly blamed on unrestrained media reporting, threatened the fabric of society.

Consequently, social cohesion became an important state policy pillar for nation-building and development, and informed Singapore’s future media legislation.

Political stability
Today, Singapore is one of the wealthiest nations in the world, thanks to decades of political stability. Whether Singapore progressed because of, or in spite of its restrictive media law, is an ongoing debate.

Suffice to say that political stability is really important for Fiji also. Instability has stunted development for decades.

So government efforts to promote social cohesion are really commendable. The future of the country depends on it.

But social stability must not become the excuse for over-zealous media laws that override our freedom to access information.

While comparisons with Singapore are valid in some respects, they are also fraught with problems: Singapore has been virtually free of corruption since inception. Historically, Fiji has been plagued by corruption.

We can also learn from countries like the Philippines. The dictator Ferdinand Marcos imposed martial law in 1972, which saw corruption reach unequalled proportions in the next 14 years.

Marcos, his family, and his cronies plundered the nation with impunity because the news media could not criticise them. Because of wanton corruption, the Philippines also experienced a dramatic increase in poverty and social unrest.

What Fiji can learn from the Philippines is that if corruption is a pre-existing problem, curtailing the media can really worsen the situation.

A delicate journey
I would like to conclude by pointing out that as a developing, multi-ethnic country, Fiji is prone to civil conflict, followed by military rule.

With the 2014 elections, Fiji transited from authoritarian to democratic government.

We appreciate that democracy is a process, not an event.  In Fiji’s case it’s a delicate journey fraught with risks.

One challenge before the country is how to regulate the media without simultaneously suppressing freedom of speech.

To build on the progress achieved so far, government should reconsider the Media Decree rather than leave it intact for some future government to abuse.

By Shailendra Singh in Suva

Discussions about the concept of “Global Citizenship” are gaining momentum in various international forums, but remain largely unexplored in the Pacific Islands.

According to Ron Israel, co-founder of The Global Citizens’ Initiative, Global Citizens think beyond communities based on shared group identities. They see themselves as part of a larger, emerging world community.

In the Pacific, the late Tongan academic and philosopher, Professor Epeli Hau’ofa, had gone as far as proposing a common regional identify he called the “new Oceania”, comprising of people with a common Pacific heritage and commitment, rather than as members of diverse nationalities and races.

In Hau’ofa’s conceptualisation, an Oceanian was anyone who lived in the Pacific, and was committed to the region, regardless of ethnicity or religion. His framework also accounted for the “astounding mobility” of Pacific Islanders over the last half-century or more.

This expanded version of Oceania covered larger areas than was “possible under the term Pacific Islands region”, forming a “world of social networks that crisscross the ocean, all the way from Australia and New Zealand in the southwest, to the United States and Canada in the northeast”.

Hau’ofa felt that a common, enlarged Pacific identity was crucial for the advancement of collective regional interests, including the protection of the vital Pacific Ocean.

Connecting and mobilising people to agitate for common interests is the thread that binds the Oceanian and the Global Citizen concepts.

Global Citizen
Global Citizen is just more expansive. Its proponents link it to the universal values of justice, democratic participation, diversity, and global solidarity as the building blocks for peaceful, tolerant, inclusive and sustainable societies.

Pacific Island commentators laud the concept, but feel that certain cultural, economic, geographical and historical obstacles could stand in the way of its implementation.

Former University of the South Pacific academic in literature, Dr Som Prakash, feels that some Global Citizen values are incompatible with the cultural beliefs, philosophies and life-styles of Pacific Island societies.

For instance, egalitarianism is seen as inimical to the hierarchical nature of some Pacific societies, such as chiefly power in Fiji, the aristocracy in Tonga, and matai (chiefly) system in Samoa.

“Democracy, for example, is not always welcomed by traditional chiefs who are given much more power and authority than the ordinary folks,” says Prakash.

“It takes a while for the ordinary Pacific cultures to get accustomed to the questioning of elders and chiefs. Often peace (one of the pillars of Global Citizenship) is argued to be better attained under a benevolent dictator.”

There are some other apparent contradictions. As pointed out by Fiji’s former vice-president, Ratu Jone Madriwiwi, in collective Pacific societies like Fiji, group interests supersede individual interests.

Agents of change
Global citizenry, on the other hand, centers on individuals as the agents of change through instilling in them “awareness of the interconnected nature of the world and the need for a global focus for development”.

However, the likes of Fiji-based university student, Duane Mar, do not see the above paradoxes as obstacles. Mar points out that the Pacific is equally affected, if not more, by some common world problems, which transcend geographical cultural, and philosophical differences.

“Global citizen is a person whose ideals and thought processes are based around those of the general global issues, such as poverty, climate change and human rights,” says Mar.

“In many rural Pacific communities, the people are very much aware of issues like climate change, and the need to combat poverty. These issues are discussed at the community level and from there, villages often work with NGO groups to address them.”

Moreover, collectivism, based on group solidarity, has some clear parallels with the Global Citizen concept of “interdependency”, even though the Global Citizen model encompasses an “interdependent world” rather than just the village, or clan.

Global Citizen, as espoused by UNESCO and other institutions, promotes the idea that people’s “individual and collective actions have a global impact – and it is their responsibility to engage in positive actions for their communities and the planet”.

The idea of collective responsibility to address global problems is likely to resonate with Pacific peoples, especially in relation to global warming and sea-level rise, seen as a severe threat to the region.

Global warming
For years, one Pacific leader after another has stood up at various international forums to urge the industrialised nations to take responsibility for global warming and implement meaningful policies to reduce carbon emissions.

As Kiribati President Anote Tong has often pointed out, the Pacific region contributes the least, just three percent, to global warming, but many islands are on the “frontline” of sea level rise.”

Speaking at a recent meeting of Pacific Island leaders, Fiji Prime Minister Voreqe Bainimarama blamed the industrialised nations for “our slide into disaster”. He added that, “the industrialised world needs to reorganise its economies and its priorities to stop pumping excessive carbon emissions that are warming the planet. To let us sink beneath the waves is totally immoral. The world must not betray us.”

Another recent Pacific leaders’ meeting in the Papua New Guinean capital, Port Moresby, ended in a stalemate after Australia and New Zealand blocked a bid from low-lying island nations for a tougher global target.

This stance has led to increased polarisation, with one commentator stating that the “lacklustre response by Australia and New Zealand to the plight of Pacific nations has finally reached boiling point”.

‘Tragedy of the commons’
Mar describes the Pacific’s global warming predicament as the “tragedy of the commons”, which in this case refers to the actions of some nations having an adverse impact on those nations that did not contribute to the situation.

On his part, USP academic Dr Prakash sees Australia and New Zealand’s intransigency over global warming as perhaps the most recent example of the many ways in which the greater powers have treated the Pacific with “carelessness, if not contempt”.

Prakash feels that such treatment lead to scepticism in the region about what inevitably comes to be seen as “fancy notions of globalisation, often emanating from well-to-do nations”.

He adds that “the most visible and tangible effects of globalisation is the crass TV, mobile phones and social media that inundate our Pacific societies”.

However, as Mar points out, the Pacific has partially benefited from globalisation.

Furthermore, globalisation and Global Citizenry are two distinct ideas. In fact, Global Citizen principles aim to address situations such as “tragedy of the commons”, a by-product of globalisation, although it is easy to see how the two terms could be confused.

The reality is that despite their smallness and isolation, the Pacific region’s destiny is tied with the rest of the world, something which Hau’ofa was keenly aware of.

Surely Hau’ofa was thinking along Global Citizen lines when he wrote that “we cannot confront the issues of the Pacific Century as individual, tiny countries created by colonial powers and acting alone. We could indeed ‘fall off the map’ or disappear into the black hole of a gigantic Pan-Pacific doughnut”.

This article was first published by Indepth News and has been updated by the author for Asia Pacific Report.

Shailendra Singh

This thesis examines conflict reporting in Fiji, an ethnically and politically divided Pacific island country debilitated by four socially and economically devastating coups between 1987 and 2006. Like media in some other developing countries, the Fiji media stand accused of exacerbating societal tensions through ill-informed, inflammatory journalism. This has had major repercussions for freedom of speech and good governance, with governments often citing media’s alleged role in aggravating conflict as justification for the introduction of punitive Media Industry Development Decree in 2010. Pacific media lacks in-depth scholarly investigation, and consequently this Fiji focussed research has four core objectives: to empirically test the claims being made constantly about conflict reporting; to assess journalists’ professionalism and diversity; to analyse media legislation to determine whether it is having its purported effects; and finally, to examine the national media ownership structure and its impact on journalism. These cross-cutting issues are examined through the political economy and normative media theoretical frameworks in combination with contemporary conflict reporting concepts such as peace journalism.

The literature review involved an assessment of the media coverage of the major post-Cold War conflicts, including some in the Pacific. In the main, existing literature focuses on Western news organisations. Non-Western, domestic media are largely neglected, with little exploration of the links between media content and the national media structure (ownership, legislation, journalist diversity and journalist capacity). The thesis approaches conflict reporting in Fiji in a holistic manner by linking media content to the national media landscape. This method enables not only an empirical assessment of the long-standing claims made against the Fiji media, but also a determination of whether conflict resolution can, and should be, one of the recognised roles of the national media in a tense, multi-ethnic country such as Fiji.

The methodology includes the following: a content analysis of the print media’s coverage of the 2006 general elections; a survey of the national journalist corps; a document review to evaluate the legislative environment and the national media ownership structure; and in-depth interviews for deeper insights into the key issues emanating from the literature. The content analysis returned a peace journalism reading, but the lack of context and the heavy reliance on elite sources diminished the value of the positive tone of the overall findings. Indeed, a new line of enquiry indicated that media were under-reporting important socio-economic issues, usually at the heart of societal conflict.

The questionnaire survey revealed a relatively young, inexperienced and under-qualified journalist corps, which betrayed signs of a fairly high rate of journalist attrition. This thesis tries to determine to what extent this problem can be attributed to low salaries, and to some other potential causes, such as Fiji’s coup culture and punitive media legislation. Document review shows the legal environment has become quite restrictive since the 2006 coup, and that the media ownership regime has become increasingly corporatised since Fiji’s independence in 1970. Following the implementation of the 2010 Media Decree, the government has become the most powerful influence in the media sector, both as a major proprietor and a high-volume advertiser. Moreover, government is the legislator of not only media policies, but also trade, business and economic policies that could impact on the profitability of media company owners, which include local conglomerates with major interests in other sectors of the economy.

These findings are indicative of a media sector mired in serious political, economic, and structural challenges. The results show that inflammatory reporting may have been a problem at one time, and is not to be underestimated in a multi-ethnic country like Fiji. But the one-sided focus of the policy on inflammatory reporting could be diverting attention from the more serious, deep-rooted problems that seem to have taken hold in the media sector over the decades, such as the lack of in-depth coverage, apparently due to insufficient newsroom capacity. This morass leads to the conclusion that authoritarian oversight, over-regulation and punitive media laws – introduced in the name of social stability and national development – are insufficient on their own to address the root causes of the problems. A better strategy would be to direct greater efforts towards training and development, and improving working conditions to build and retain a strong journalist corps over the long term.

This study spans theory, practice and policy. With conflict reporting rarely researched in a systematic manner in the Pacific, the thesis aims to put the subject firmly on the agenda. It seeks to make a distinct contribution to knowledge with originality through approaching the whole area via theoretical frameworks involving political economy and peace journalism. Policy-wise, conflict containment is going to be an on-going, generational effort in Fiji, and a study looking into the problem from a media perspective is long overdue.

Singh, Shailendra Bahadur Singh (2015). Rethinking journalism for supporting social cohesion and democracy: Case study of media performance in Fiji. Doctoral thesis, University of Queensland. Available at the UQ research repository: http://espace.library.uq.edu.au/view/UQ:365724