KINGDOM IN A TIME WARP

Dev Nadkarni

NOVEMBER 2009 ISSUE

No country in the region has its contrasts and contradictions exposed in such sharp relief as the South Pacific’s only surviving kingdom.
Tonga is often criticised as an anachronism, a relic of a country trapped in a time warp, a monarchy trying to cloak itself in the robes of democracy.
Yet, it has one of the world’s oldest constitutions, is at the top of the heap among Pacific Islands countries in the United Nations’ Human Development Index of living standards, taking top slots in several indices of progress.
It comes up highest in per capita GDP, spends the highest amount on early education and basic health per person in terms of ratio to its GDP, compared with any other islands nation including economically stronger ones like Papua New Guinea, Fiji and Samoa, and performs better than them in a whole range of other standards of living indices.
Tongans are believed to have a greater percentage of doctorates among them than any other country, though most of them live and work outside Tonga.
Yet, it’s a tradition bound monarchy that continues to struggle to bring in a measure of modern democracy into its polity.
The clash of unchanging tradition and the slowly creeping currents of modernity is always palpable on its shores, heightened every once in a while when these opposing forces take centre stage.
Ideological and political cauldrons are always on a slow simmer in Nuku’alofa.
While reform of the political system is the main flavour of the concoction bubbling away for the most part—as it has always been over the past so many years—there are sometimes variations on the theme brewing in some cauldrons on the side. And every once in a while, there’s a new spicy mix that’s thrown in, which sends a new scent wafting through the air. This is one such time.
Closely on the heels of the unfortunate Princess Ashika ferry disaster that has seen over 70 people dead and the loss of life and property following September’s Pacific tsunami hitting the Niuas—Tonga’s northernmost islands that are closer to Apia than Nuku’alofa—Prime Minister Feleti Sevele is facing a surge in the political tide.
For one, the head of the Tongan Women’s National Congress, Mele ’Amanaki, a former MP, is on hunger strike and has petitioned King George Tupou V urging for Sevele’s removal for his “poor governance record” and his government’s handling of the ferry disaster and the aftermath of the tsunami.
She is also opposed to the prime minister’s stand on CEDAW (Committee on Elimination of Discrimination Against Women).
I meet her at her home on the 14th day of her fast and enquire after her health. She says she has lost weight since she has eaten nothing and she has only just sipped her first drink in two weeks.
But, she says, she feels strong enough for a marathon walk with me if I am feeling up to it. That’s because, she says, her God is with her and constantly quotes from her copy of the Bible, reading copious passages to nearly every question I ask.
She wants Tonga to sign CEDAW and guarantee gender equality. There have been no more than six women in the legislature in the country’s history, she says.
And this year alone, four women have succumbed to domestic violence. “Will signing up to CEDAW guarantee more women MPs and less domestic violence?” I ask.
She says she absolutely believes it will and she also has the full support of most Tongan women, she says.
Few Tongans I spoke with agree, however—none of the men in any case. Men, starting with the Prime Minister himself, believe women are deeply revered in Tongan society and traditionally have a pride of place—“put on a pedestal”—is a favourite phrase many men use.
Signing CEDAW is therefore unnecessary, all of them reckon. Besides, it would mean having to change several provisions of the country’s succession laws enshrined in its constitution and open a pandora’s box of other issues, point out most of them.
Does ‘Amanaki think her demand on CEDAW stands a chance of getting due consideration? Does she think she can galvanise Tongan women into a movement?
Does she expect to have her meeting with the King to explain how important it is for the country to have a new prime minister and sign CEDAW?
She absolutely believes she does. Her reason: her unshakable faith in her God. Even if the chairperson of Tonga’s Civil Society Forum says it doesn’t condone a protest hunger strike aimed at toppling the prime minister and no one really believes an audience with the King is ever possible.
An imminent mass women’s revolution in the kingdom is about as likely as finding an igloo in the Sahara.
But then, that’s no deterrent to stopping the Tongan cauldrons from their continual simmering.
Comfort in the community
For all its superlative performance on the living standards indices, Tonga lags light years behind Fiji and even Samoa in tourism infrastructure.
For a national capital, there’s very little choice of accommodation in Nuku’alofa.
But a new, innovative initiative has the potential to change that. Tui Lodge in Kolomotu’a, just a hop from the town centre, says it's part of a new community-based visitor hosting programme.
The construction and amenities are modern, rooms commodious and well lit (air conditioned too), the place is squeaky clean and staff friendly. Comes with everything you’d expect in a top-class resort including kitchen and laundry services.
The property is set in the middle of a community where you can actually experience a slice of Tongan life as people go about their chores—and, of course, be part of the special Sunday atmosphere if you’re there on a weekend.
One of the most interesting things about staying at Tui is the affable company of its host and hostess.
It’s run by Suliana, wife of scribe Kalafi Moala. Moala, as many know, is a fine conversationalist and can regale you for hours—a most welcome diversion from just sitting there on a balmy evening staring at your iPhone screen as it struggles to download an avalanche of emails on the kingdom’s excruciatingly slow internet connections.