Previous convictions

Unintended consequences of a liberal colonialist
May 19, 2001

I have always absolved myself from the Australian collective guilt over the treatment of the Aborigines, and felt free to criticise successive governments' miserly and reluctant handling of land rights issues. I am a "new Australian" and have never considered myself, or my family, culpable for the mass killing, disease and enforced assimilation which all but decimated the indigenous peoples who lived there prior to the arrival of the British. In fact, I was brought up to believe that while short-sighted and ruthless British colonisers were grabbing land and poisoning waterholes in terra nullius, my relatives were using the instruments of British imperialism to protect and empower colonial subjects.

My mother's family has always been entwined with Britain's colonial project-from the Straights colony to India, Africa and the South Pacific. I grew up on stories, photos and artefacts of romance and adventure-cannibals, exotic royalty and tragedy-always set in the indulgent seduction of the tropics. They stayed away too long, drinking warm gin-and-water in exotic corners of the empire. In the end, they could never go home.

My mother was the third generation of her family to be born in Fiji; a small ginger child brought up by her nanny to speak Fijian and then English. Her father, who was director of health services in Fiji and then in Western Samoa, had passed up numerous opportunities for promotion which would have transferred him away from the only place he really knew-Fiji. His father, my great-grandfather, was secretary for native affairs, and had spent his life attempting to construct equitable legal systems in an inequitable, mercantile system that favoured white settlers. Half a century before land rights became one of the most complex issues in post-colonial societies, he successfully secured a system of native title for indigenous Fijians that ensured they would maintain ownership of their land in perpetuity. A liberal, enlightened policy that has ended in disaster 90 years later.

Indigenous land rights and the right to self-determination have become a rallying call of western liberals. The 1996 UN Experts Seminar on Indigenous Land Rights and Claims emphasised how important it is that "the link between self-determination and the right to land is recognised." This is usually only applied in the context of small, ethnically homogenous and economically weak minorities, who have little or no access to political or economic participation-people like Australian Aborigines, Canadian Inuit and the few remaining native American tribes. The claims are normally settled by granting native title to marginal, useless land, thereby reinforcing national myths that, prior to the arrival of Europeans, local people preferred to live in icy tundra and sandy deserts.

By contrast, native land title in Fiji was set up in an attempt to secure economic and political rights for native Fijians while also preserving local culture and tradition. In a time when land was power, it was intended to ensure that Fijians would always maintain a vital share in the control of Fiji. Despite the fact that Fijians still own more than 80 per cent of the land, this legacy of enlightened colonial policy has, paradoxically, stunted the economic development of native Fijians. And it has handed over most economic power to the large Indian-Fijian minority.

How did a policy that was meant to protect Fijians end up disadvantaging them? Native land title was established on a communal basis to replicate the existing traditional structure of land ownership. To avoid future exploitation, it could neither be bought nor sold. That land became almost worthless-it was not a tradeable commodity and banks would not approve loans secured by communal tenure. The only economic opportunity which could be exploited from the land was the granting of 99-year leases to the plantation industry-an industry controlled by Indian-Fijians who, originally brought to Fiji as indentured labour to work the plantations, had experience of management. The situation is further complicated by the ethnic make-up of Fiji. In a population of 800,000, native Fijians make up 51 per cent, while the Indian-Fijians account for about 44 per cent.

Fiji has had two coups in 14 years and political instability is likely to continue. Many of the leases are due for renewal over the next ten years. The Indian-Fijian community wants to renew these leases for a further 99 years, or to initiate a programme of land reform which would challenge native title. Native Fijians want shorter, more flexible leases so that they can have ready access to land and greater economic leverage. Whichever group holds political power will secure an economic advantage in years to come.

Fiji today bears little relation to the Fiji of my family's memory. It is just another third world country with third world problems. The colonial whitewash is covered in black mould; garden parties have been crowded out by McDonald's and package tourists; and the Fijians themselves have become less friendly and aristocratic, more angry and resentful. The pride I have always felt in my great-grandfather's role in securing for the Fijians what is theirs, is now tinged with shame for what it has produced: a divided and racist nation.