Proposal to Deport the King
Tevita Motulalo
MSc Geopolitics and International Relations
Next Gen Pacific Security Scholar 2015
Founding Fellow Royal Oceania Institute
Geopolitics, Politics, and the Search for a True Tongan Democracy
The modern debates on parliamentary and constitutional reform in Tonga are often framed as a struggle between “popular democracy” and “elite privilege”—between the People’s Representatives on one side, and the King and Nobles on the other. Yet this framing, repeated so casually in recent years, collapses under the weight of historical evidence. For more than a century, the struggle was not between Tongans at all. It was the struggle against external powers—their strategic agendas, their intrusive administrators, and their deliberate reshaping of Tongan political institutions for imperial convenience.
Today, as Tonga once again embarks on reform discussions, it is worth asking whether the nation is digging the same hole only to fill it up again: mistaking symptoms for causes, confusing colonial legacies for Tongan original design, and inadvertently reviving the very distortions imposed during the Protectorate period.
This article revisits that history, beginning with the most shocking episode of them all: the British Consul’s proposal to deport the King of Tonga himself!
When a Foreign Agent Tried to Deport the King
In the early 20th century, British officials in Tonga—especially Consul Basil Thomson, and later William Telfer Campbell and Hamilton Hunter—developed a habit of acting as if Tonga were a mere outpost of the Empire rather than a sovereign state under treaty.
Their interventions escalated to a point where they successfully engineered the deportation of two Prime Ministers, Baker and Siosateki Veikune—moves conducted against popular expectation and in violation of the spirit of Tonga’s Constitution and Tongan sovereignty.
But the most audacious proposal came when the Consul, frustrated by the independence of the Tongan Crown, suggested the deportation of the Monarch himself—Tupou II!
This proposal—astonishing by any standard—was not the action of a lone rogue diplomat. It must be read within the geopolitical environment of the time: the Scramble for Africa, the partition of Oceania, and the fierce Anglo-German rivalry over strategic islands.
Fortunately, the British High Commissioner in Fiji—understanding the wider strategic consequences—declined the proposal. Britain was trying to maintain a stable balance of power in the Pacific while suppressing anti-colonial revolts elsewhere. Deporting a Pacific monarch, particularly one as respected as Queen Sālote’s predecessors, risked lighting a fuse across Britain’s colonial world.
And fortunately for Tonga, the King was no fool—the Consul who recommended deportation, William Telfer Campbell, was eventually expelled from Tonga, and not for the first time: he had already earned a reputation across the Empire’s protectorates, including Tuvalu and Kiribati, as “dictatorial” and autocratic “without tact”. Tonga had seen enough—he could pull off his stunts there, but not here!
Protectorate Politics: Geopolitics, Not Local Power Grabs
Much of what modern commentators describe as “traditional Tongan oppression” was in fact Protectorate engineering, driven by the imperial logic of the early 1900s. Under the 1900 Treaty, Britain took full control of Tonga’s foreign affairs and defense—effectively the heart of sovereignty.
Furthermore:
1905 Treaty Supplements granted the Consul veto power over fiscal and administrative policies—effectively making him “King in all but name.”
Further 1915 policies gutted Parliament: representation was slashed, the powers of the Fono reinterpreted, and Cabinet positions reserved for palangi members of Cabinet, officials aligned with British objectives.
Parliament and Cabinet were reduced to efficient rubber stamps for the Consul’s decisions.
This was not a product of Tongan tradition. It was imperial redesign by power-crazed individuals. Contrary to the modern narrative that blames the King and Nobles for holding on to disproportionate power, the actual historical record shows:
All 20 titled Nobles sat in Parliament from the beginning—according to Dr. Malakai Koloamatangi.
The Constitution established universal male suffrage in 1875, long before Britain introduced it in 1918.
The original Parliament had 40 members—20 Nobles and 20 People’s Representatives—making it one of the earliest democratic hybrid systems in the Pacific.
Its bicameral nature was implicit, evident in the House and While Committee of the House formats.
The Protectorate drastically shrank this system—reducing the Nobles and Representatives to 7 each—while increasing Cabinet’s presence inside Parliament, making it an obedient administrative arm.
The Cold War: Why Protectorate Structures Survived After 1970
Though the Protectorate officially ended in 1970, its political architecture persisted for two decades. Why? Because the Cold War between the Communist bloc led by the Soviet Union, changed the incentive structure of Western powers.
In a period where every local protest or social movement could be interpreted as a communist uprising, foreign powers encouraged Pacific states to prioritise stability over reform.
Tonga’s internal composition, shaped under the Protectorate, seemed to offer predictable continuity.
Only in the 1990s—after the Cold War thawed—and the triumph of Liberal Democracy, were the old narratives revived.
However they were revived incorrectly—Reformers blamed the King and Nobles for the structure of Parliament, ignoring that those structures were colonial impositions, not Tongan inclinations.
Perhaps someone’s hair was ruffled when one of King Tupou IV’s first state visit was through Non-Aligned India to Moscow itself. It was time for payback!
This misdiagnosis—whether through ignorance or political expedience—prevented the nation from understanding the true origin of its parliamentary distortions.
The Original Constitution: A Democratic Document with Spiritual Foundations
When King George Tupou I promulgated the Constitution in 1875, he created one of the Pacific’s first written constitutional democracies.
It was:
Democratic
Legally universalist
Rooted in Christian moral philosophy
Structurally comparable to Western constitutional monarchies
In the United Kingdom, even today:
Nobles sit in the House of Lords (Lords Temporal).
Bishops and Archbishops sit as the Lords Spiritual.
Tonga mirrored this logic. The Nobles represented the territorial, cultural, and spiritual continuity of the island groups. They were not simply “representatives of themselves.” They represented their ha‘a, their fale, and their realms—they were the building blocks and authority that was submitted to Tupou to build the kingdom with! Their role was explicitly spiritual, cultural, and constitutional, and with their realms and Kainga!
Attempts to “modernise” by attacking the Nobles misunderstand this structural logic and unintentionally repeat the Protectorate’s efforts to weaken Tongan continuity and identity.
A Bicameral System Hidden in Plain Sight
Tonga already operates two formats within its unicameral Parliament:
1. The House
2. The Whole House Committee
These are essentially proto-bicameral functions. The current debate—which seeks to limit the Nobles or reassign royal prerogatives—is attacking the wrong issue. The real reform pathway is:
A Lower House: directly elected representatives.
An Upper House: Nobles (and potentially spiritual or community seats), acting as the reviewing and stabilising chamber.
This would allow the Parliament to Check itself, owing to the true spirit of modern democratic government of checks and balances.
It would also eliminate the need for the Monarch to intervene in political disputes or block unwise legislation. It would restore the spirit of the original constitutional without reverting to Protectorate distortions.
In hindsight, the pre-2010 Parliament could have naturally evolved into an Upper Chamber, while the 1992 Convention could have inaugurated a fully realised Lower Chamber. Their members would retain the wider constituencies (3 Popular MPs elected by Tongatapu, 2 by Vavaʻu, etc.) they enjoyed then, which a lot of people misconstrue as the better system now!
Are the Same Infiltrations Happening Now?
If Tonga misreads its own history, it risks repeating it.
Foreign aid and foreign consultants today—sometimes well-meaning, often not—introduce frameworks like New Public Management, corporatisation of government, or imported governance doctrines that conflict with Tonga’s foundational principles.
They do so without public scrutiny, replicating the Protectorate dynamic where external doctrines quietly reshape internal structures.
The same has happened to the recently announced Tonga National Security Policy which the King hasn’t signed off on, or even the Strategic Development Framework which the Budget must abide with, is built for the satisfaction of donors, not democratically elected Representatives.
But that’s the talk for most MPs and candidates: more aid, more money, more development and dependance!
The media, largely underdeveloped, underfunded, and struggling economically, is particularly vulnerable to foreign aid manipulations.
Meanwhile, aid dependency risks recreating the very imbalance of power that allowed the Consul to dominate policy in the early 1900s.
This should prompt a serious question: Are today’s reforms truly Tongan corrections—or the return of external infiltrations—dressed in modern language?
History offers Tonga a warning: the last time foreign influence reshaped its political institutions, the result was so severe that a British Consul felt empowered to propose deporting the King.
Reform is necessary. But reform without historical understanding and grounding in the true spirit of Tonga and the Constitution, is simply digging a hole, just to fill it back up again. Pointless, and borderline dangerous!

