WHEN RATU SUKUNA WEPT BY PRIME MINISTER HON. SITIVENI RABUKA AT THE RT. SUKUNA DAY CELEBRATIONS 2024
31/05/2024
It is a major honour for me to be chief guest at this 2024 Ratu Sukuna Day celebration. You will remember that our Government made a commitment to reinstate Ratu Sukuna Day which had been canceled without a proper explanation by the previous government.
And now the achievements of this revered leader are once more commemorated annually. His deeds and legacy are integral to our national story.
Much has been written about him. His pre-eminent chronicler was the late Pacific historian, Dr Deryck Scarr. He authored two influential books - a biography, Ratu Sukuna, Soldier, Statesman, Man of Two Worlds; and Fiji: The Three-legged Stool, Selected Writings of Ratu Sir Lala Sukuna. They are a trove of precious narratives, reports, insights and anecdotes derived from extensive research and first-rate scholarship.
Dr Scarr, who married the late Marion, a member of Fiji’s Erasito family, died in March this year. I feel it is right and proper for me to honour him posthumously for giving us authoritative published literature that helps to anchor Ratu Sukuna’s place in the annals of Fiji.
This commemoration we’ve been observing for several days should be permanently on our national calendar.
I applaud the decision of the organisers to celebrate visionary leadership while focusing on education and culture. It was an excellent idea for a symposium to be organised for young people, and to stage other activities to enhance their knowledge of Ratu Sukuna.
The message I see here is that the great chief belongs to us all, including of course the younger generation. What he accomplished was for the benefit of everyone. It is important for the youth of Fiji to absorb knowledge about Ratu Sukuna as they make that gradual transition into citizenship which transforms them into patriots of Fiji.
These last few days have again highlighted the deeds of Ratu Sukuna and the extent and diversity of the service he gave to his country when it was a member of the mighty British Empire. A brief outline of his career details provide a glimpse of this.
He was the first Fijian to go to university gaining degrees in arts and law. He won honours as a soldier and was an Aide-De-Camp to the Governor. A first-rate administrator, he was Chairman of the Native Lands Commission, District and Provincial Commissioner, and Chief Reserves Commissioner.
He was also secretary for Fijian Affairs, a position Dr Scarr described as only a couple of rungs below God!
Ratu Sukuna was a member of the Council of Chiefs and the Legislative Council (Legco), the Colony’s parliament. He rose to become the Council’s Speaker.
With the outbreak of the first World War, one of the bloodiest conflicts in history, the then 27 year-old chief was determined to do his bit for King, Empire and homeland. Recruitment procedures made it difficult for him to join the British Army, so instead he signed up for the French Foreign Legion.
He had no illusions about war. Everything he’d read about it spelled hell. The sight of blood on the battlefield gave him stomach pains and caused him to vomit. He wrote a letter home describing how enemy fire rained down, leaving him shaking all over without much fighting spirit left.
But, Ladies and Gentlemen, all this horror and the threat of death did not stop him. Driven by his determination to fight for what was right and honourable, Ratu Sukuna vanquished his fears. He went on to win high awards for spectacular bravery, finally ending up in hospital with wounds to his head and body.
As his career back in Fiji began to take shape, Ratu Sukuna found himself deeply immersed in education; from 1909 he acted as Assistant Master at Lau Provincial School and later was in charge of it. He served on an Education Commission, established to review and make recommendations on the Colony’s evolving system of learning. A period as a member of the Education Board gave him additional perspectives and experience in this key area of national governance and advancement.
In his official correspondence, he wrote about the opening of the Queen Victoria School - a significant milestone. He referred to Legco’s decision to extend primary education and start a Government training college for teachers. He pointed out that much had already been done by Missionaries and the Government.
The arrival of the Girmit settlers from India also led to the formation of a new pillar for the education system. The Girmitiyas took it upon themselves to establish schools in many parts of the country.
One of these was Wairuku Indian School, located near Vaileka in Ra. The school’s records show that its first pupils included B Radhwan Nand, Shiu Lakhan, Miss Snow, Bechu and Santa Bai.
There was another name: Ratu J L V Sukuna.
His father, Ratu Joni Madraiwiwi, was employed as Roko at the Ra Provincial Council. He must have recognised that the Wairuku School represented a good learning environment for his son.
Many years later the school and cane farmers of the area, descended from the Girmitiya, would be the beneficiaries of an internationally-acclaimed land management scheme. It was conceived and implemented by its former pupil, Ratu Sir Lala Sukuna, who had been destined for greatness.
I cannot this morning go further into the evolution of education in Fiji because I don’t have time. But as I have related, Ratu Sukuna was in the midst of it. He had his first experience of the education system as that young boy at Wairuku School.
He was, of course, steeped in indigenous culture.
Dr Scarr’s description of him as a man of two worlds underscored how he was constantly caught between sometimes stiff and formal European ways, and the very different customs of his own people. They were built on ancient traditions, customs and rites, blood relationships and status.
He complained that the constant conforming to the demands of two entirely different social systems sometimes made him weary.
He reported to the Secretary of Fijian Affairs in 1950 that Fijian society had little individual freedom or equality. What then gave it the ability to survive in the midst of hostile clans and warring tribes?
According to Ratu Sukuna it was sure belief in common descent, common faith and common interest. To this he added shrewdness, tact and forbearance; loyalty, obedience and reverence.
The Fijian, wrote Ratu Sukuna, was fortified by his Bible,
and his belief in tribal law and custom. His being was in his group and clan, and a familiar atmosphere of rites, legends and myths.
Ratu Sukuna also appreciated the virtues of modern technology - such as electricity - brought to Fiji by the Colonisers and other Europeans.
He captured this beautifully in a May 1949 letter from Suva.
“Dawn is just breaking,” he wrote, “and after Navua and benzene and kerosene lamps, it is very pleasant to get up and be able to turn the light on and write, or even read files…”
That simple act of flipping a switch was a relief to those like Ratu Sukuna who were familiar with the restricting shadows and darkness, and the bother and danger of lighting lanterns, and fiddling with a kerosene stove.
In exercising power, Ratu Sukuna knew how to employ his chiefly authority and ensure he was closely attuned to the Fijian social order. He said that with native officials ready to rule and the people ready to obey, the administration of Fiji ran smoothly.
He was, however, cautious about what he called “modern politics with its political institutions”. This, he said, was not the most attractive side of civilisation.
I suppose he was talking here about democracy; rule by majority, vigorous and sometimes noisy debate on controversial issues. We had to get used to that in Fiji as we moved into independence.
Ratu Sukuna’s crowning achievement was a unique land reform initiative which provided a framework for the people of a plural nation to live and work together.
Change was urgently needed because the existing lease system was often chaotic, corrupt and haphazard. It was an obstacle to development, not a catalyst.
Ratu Sukuna took on an enormous task. He travelled throughout Fiji to convince the indigenous people to surrender control of their land to a new organisation to be called the Native Land Trust Board. They eventually agreed.
It was a world first, a landmark in Fiji and the British empire.
For more than 84 years, the NLTB has discharged its obligations to the landowners while ensuring surplus land is leased out for many purposes including farming, residential development, tourism, commerce and industry.
Ratu Sukuna’s vision was one of progress through multi racial cooperation. He knew there had to be a fair balance between the interests of the main communities and the other groups that called Fiji home.
As a Fijian chief he was deeply committed by his calling to the welfare of the indigenes. But he recognised the descendants of the Girmitiya settlers also had legitimate rights and needs.
At a speech he made to the Council of Chiefs in 1936 he outlined the thinking which guided him.
It’s thoroughly understood, he said, that the control of our land is in the hands of the Fijians. The owner of a property had an important duty to perform. He asked the Council to bear in mind the story of the talents.
“Whosoever utilised what is given him will be given more. He who fails to use what he has, will lose all that he hath.”
This was particularly applicable to the owners of the land, for land was the one source of wealth.
“Without land,” said Ratu Sukuna, “we cannot live. Without it we can neither secure food or money.”
He recognised that economic production and expansion would become vital questions for the Fijians. He saw his people as born agriculturalists, not born storekeepers. The responsible Fijians, he said, regarded production of native crops as an honourable occupation. He felt it was the bounden duty of landowners to utilise what they possess for the benefit of all.
An idle landowner neglected his duty to his State. Should his holding be more than he could utilise, he should lease the surplus to those that could make use of it. He wanted the Fijians to thrive and grow in education, to earn and save money, to use their lands and to live peacefully with all.
These thoughts would help prepare Fiji for the complex transition from colony to independent nationhood.
There is another side to Ratu Sukuna which is rarely published. In Dr Scarr’s biography of the Chief there is a passage which shows him at his most vulnerable. He was at a turning point he could not face. As age caught up with him, his health began to fail. He had been working for the people and the country he loved for over 50 years.
The pace and the pressure were inexorable and he was afflicted with arteriosclerosis, hypertension and deafness.
But he could not ignore the call of duty.
He was still travelling to supervise the surveying of land to be held as native reserve. Sometimes he had to be carried up steep areas or transported on bamboo rafts. Those travelling with him sensed he was saying farewell, although he never expressed that in words.
One morning in February 1958, he was working in his study at Rairaiwaqa, the hilltop mansion in Suva he rented from the copra planter Jim Borron.
A letter was delivered by hand. It was from the Governor Sir Ronald Garvey.
Written in a kindly way, its essential message was that it was time for Ratu Sukuna to retire. His health made it dangerous for him to continue with his duties. The Governor, however, asked him to please be available as Chief Adviser on Fijian Affairs.
Ratu Sukuna struggled to dictate his reply. He could not find the right words. From time to time he would stop and ascend the stairs to sit down for a while. Then, after gathering his thoughts, he would return to finish the letter he did not want to write.
Tears streamed down his face; such was the emotion of this moment he had dreaded. The only life he knew was serving Fiji and it was now ending.
In his response to the Governor, who was also preparing to retire, Ratu Sukuna confessed he knew retirement was inevitable.
“.… I have myself seen it coming for the last eight months, much as I have regretted the quick turn of events.”
He said his doctors had advised him to call it a day. But despite this expert advice, “I was keen to do the job of work that had to be done.”
He retired officially on his 70th birthday, 22nd April 1958.
Accompanied by his wife, Lady Liku, he voyaged in the P&O Liner Arcadia from Sydney for a holiday in Britain. When the liner was near to Ceylon, the Captain cabled Governor Garvey to tell him that Ratu Sukuna’s arteriosclerosis was causing anxiety. For five days he drifted in and out of consciousness, and sometimes imagined he was back in Fiji.
And then he died.
His body was returned by air to Fiji and lay in state at Rairaiwaqa, where many people from all Fiji’s communities viewed the coffin. He was buried at Tubou in Lau.
One of the clearest and most striking indicators of what Ratu Sukuna meant to the people of Fiji was evident when his body was driven by night from Nadi Airport to Suva.
Dr Scarr wrote that along the entire gravelled roadway, houses emptied, kerosene lamps and torches were taken out in the darkness to light the way for the chief’s journey.
The people were at once sorrowful and disbelieving that so eloquent a voice was stilled.
I am very much aware that you, the organisers, requested me as part of my speech to share my insights and vision for Fiji.
But I have to tell you, with due respect, that after preparing for this address and thinking so much about its content and meaning for Fiji, I cannot now speak about myself.
This moment is not mine. It belongs to Ratu Sir Josefa Lalabalavu Vanayaliyali Sukuna, who passed away far from the islands he loved in 1958.
He is long gone, but what he did and what he stood for, remains and so does his spirit.
Thank you, God bless Fiji.