Commentary: So how does the government really work — and can Tonga fix it?
For many Tongans, government feels like a fixed and complicated creature — something inherited, unquestioned, and destined to operate “the way it is.” People assume that laws alone determine how ministries function. What is rarely understood is that the machinery of public administration — the systems that set priorities, measure performance, and shape decisions — was designed elsewhere and then grafted onto Tonga. It can be changed, because it was never carved in stone.
Much of this framework still bears the fingerprints of foreign institutions and consultants. Their involvement continues to give the impression that government processes are immovable. But once we recognise these systems were constructed, not ordained, it becomes clear that Tongans have the democratic right to redesign them so they serve national cohesion, not bureaucratic fragmentation.
Tonga’s experience with externally imported governance models is a cautionary tale. When New Public Management (NPM) reforms met the rapid political changes of the mid-2000s, the two collided rather than aligned. The fallout did not merely slow progress; it weakened the state’s ability to function as a coherent whole.
NPM’s ideas — breaking institutions into smaller units, empowering CEOs with managerial autonomy, and judging success through numerical performance indicators — never suited a small country where relationships, tradition, and collective identity anchor political life. Instead of efficiency, Tonga ended up with a scattering of semi-autonomous authorities funded largely through foreign aid. They expanded, rather than restrained, avenues for political patronage. Some even competed with small Tongan businesses, crowding out the very private sector that reforms were meant to strengthen.
What followed was fragmentation. Ministries focused on hitting their internal targets even when those targets had little to do with national priorities. Processing more permits or attending more conferences might satisfy a KPI sheet, but it does little to advance long-term goals such as a sustainable blue economy. As each agency pursued its own objectives, the government lost the ability to speak with one clear national voice.
Politics filled the gap left by weak structures. The shift toward populist campaigning meant MPs survived by funnelling resources back to their villages, churches, alumni groups, and kin networks. Budget decisions became increasingly shaped by local loyalties rather than national purpose. The result was predictable: tribalism became institutionalised, and statecraft — the ability to act for the whole country — was weakened.
Even the moral foundations of public service were unsettled. Where the old system emphasised duty and impartiality, NPM imported the language of “customers”, reducing citizens to transactions rather than partners in a shared national project. Without a unifying ethical anchor, political interests slipped easily into the space once occupied by principle and responsibility.
The global consensus now acknowledges that pure NPM does not work as intended. Yet Tonga remains stuck with a diluted, inconsistent version of it. The country can break free — but only if it adopts a model that matches its own social realities rather than repeating foreign experiments.
A more suitable approach draws from three well-established alternatives. The Neo-Weberian model would rebuild a professional public service capable of coordinated, whole-of-government action. The New Public Service perspective would restore citizenship, duty, and democratic accountability as guiding principles. And Public Value Management would ensure government is judged not by box-ticking but by the long-term value it creates — trust, unity, and national resilience.
No single model is enough. Tonga needs a blend: disciplined administration, ethical foundations, and a focus on public value. And beyond the technical reforms, political leaders must agree on a shared, non-partisan moral core that rises above the contest for local advantage. Only then can the country redirect its energy outward — towards development, security, and global engagement — instead of fighting internal battles that weaken the nation.
Reform is not just possible; it is necessary. Tonga has the social capital, identity, and community strength to build a governance system that genuinely serves its people. But it will require a deliberate choice to step away from the inherited structures that have quietly undermined national unity for nearly two decades.
Tevita Motulalo
