"It is up to You, Father"
In a tribal society, respect and deference to the chief is all important. The directives coming out from the chief and the elders must be obeyed with no ground for argument or disagreement. The centre of life is the village community; the chief is the father of this familial community.
This deference and obedience is so much part of the Fijian psyche that it is given to all who are looked upon as superior by reason of education or avocation. These include Government officials, ministers of religion and priests. In our early years we young missionaries found this attitude frustrating. We sought advice and guidance about some line of action or pastoral strategy from people we respected such as teachers, catechists and elders generally and the usual answer we got was, "It is up to you, Father."
Colonial rule in Fiji was a mild paternalism based on village communal life. While there was a central government, there was also a form of local government for the Fijians with its own laws. Under these laws, for instance, the men of the village were expected to live in their villages and, on certain days, do communal work like native house building, cutting the grass on the village grounds and building thatched houses for young people getting married. If a man absented himself from this communal work, he had to pay a small sum to the village instead. If he went away to work in a town, he had to pay an annual village commutation tax.
A villager called Semisi accompanied me on my journeys to the villages in the group of islands which formed my rather large maritime parish. As a result he missed some village work obligations and was summoned to appear before the Fijian stipendiary magistrate on a certain day when the "court" would be in session.
Semisi and I arrived in the designated village at the appointed time: 9:30am. The Fijian magistrate was accompanied by a policeman. We sat around in the village chief's house, chatted and drank kava. And so the morning passed in this desultory, informal manner. Soon it was time for lunch.
After lunch I enquired from the magistrate as to when the court proceedings would begin. His reply was, "It is up to you, Father." I refrained from the outburst of laughter that was welling up inside me and suggested it was up to him to get on with the proceedings. At that he removed his casual beach shirt, put on a dress shirt with tie and then his jacket which, in this climate, is only worn on solemn occasions. Then with the aura of the majesty of the law, he announced that we were ready to start.
The village crier went to the door of the house and proclaimed to the village that the court for the district of Nacula was now in session. Then he was instructed to call the first case. He called the accused, Semisi, even though Semisi was sitting a few feet from the Magistrate. The policeman read the charge and the Magistrate asked Semisi, if he understood it. He replied, "Yes, sir." He was then asked if the charge was true and he again said in a low respectful tone, "Yes, sir." A fine of five pounds was imposed which I promptly paid. There were no other cases that day and so the magistrate removed the formal dress and the aura of the law and we went back to the Kava drinking and the conversation that had been interrupted.
Fiji is no longer a Crown Colony. We have independence, equality and a staggering, uncertain kind of democracy, which is new to the Fijian way of life. All the structures and laws of special government for the Fijian people have officially disappeared and as a result there is a certain amount of cultural confusion. Many of the older people lament the passing of the old ways and blame the new ways for the increase in crime and lawlessness.
In former times when chiefs and elders were highly respected and listened to, those who broke the law were dealt with at the local level. The clock cannot be turned back but if the Church and educators could inculcate some of the traditional values of respect, and may I say it, obedience, in the village communities, life would be happier and safer.
Fr Martin Dobey first went to Fiji in 1952 where he spent 52 years in missionary activity. He passed away in Ireland in 2007.
