COMMENT
If I were the King of Tonga, I would be a trifle worried.
His Majesty, I am told, is the Tongan rugby team's biggest fan, and since he is out of the kingdom right now one assumes he is mostly likely in Australia taking in world cup matches with others of the royal family.
In which case, it can't have escaped Taufa'ahau Tupou IV - for His Majesty is a university-educated man - that his rugby-playing ambassadors aren't exactly putting themselves on the line for this self-proclaimed jewel of the Pacific.
I'm not talking merely about that pride-denting performance against Italy last week, which had team coach Jim Love lamenting the ill-discipline that cost Tonga any real chance of advancing to the quarter-finals.
That would have been bad enough. But if I were His Immenseness, I would be taking careful note of the players' faces during the playing of the Tongan national anthem - the one that beseeches God to protect the King and which plainly failed to stir either pride or passion in the national side.
"They're supposed to be playing for their King," snorts a Tongan of my acquaintance. "But if you watch their faces, there's no emotion there. It's dead. They might as well have been playing Waltzing Matilda."
Contrast that with the Samoans, he said. Hands on hearts, passion and pride written on their faces. As Samoa's coach John Boe told Britain's Daily Telegraph, "the passion in Samoa is quite unique. Without a doubt their biggest motivation is their families and their people - it's like going back 20 or 30 years - it's not the dollar".
If the world cup is a stage for the small nations of the Pacific to make their mark and to grab some positive media attention, then by all accounts Tonga is not winning this game.
Manu Samoa know from past world cup forays that a little bit of media stroking goes a long way.
Unlike John Mitchell's All Blacks, the Samoans are always eager to lap up any public relations opportunities.
Thus, you will find Lome Fa'atau making copy not only for his blinding tackles but for his pea, the traditional tattoo that covers him from waist to knees - and, for which he endured nine excruciating days of being chipped at with a pig's tooth for the sake of honouring his heritage and showing respect for his culture.
As for Tonga, their fortunes at the world cup have mirrored problems at home. While the team slipped into Australia, there was widespread consternation and anger over constitutional changes designed to tighten state control on the media and limit the rights of the judiciary to review royal decisions.
In a rare move of defiance, 6000 to 10,000 Tongans marched on Parliament, a huge number given that the total population is only 110,000. The mood was different, too. Unlike the only other march back in 1991, when 1500 Tongans protested against constitutional changes to cover the illegal selling of Tongan citizenship to non-Tongans, this one wasn't quite as subdued or polite.
This time there was chanting, shouting, and banners: "Clive Edwards, Minister of Police. We're Not Afraid of You".
Pesi Fonua, the editor of Matangi Tonga, warned in an editorial that the constitutional changes were a "madness" which would make Tonga poorer, and "damage the reputation of this country beyond our wildest nightmares. It goes against the principles of the civilised world". But last Thursday Tonga's Parliament passed the changes by 16 votes to 11.
New Zealand-based Taimi o Tonga editor, Kalafi Moala, who doesn't expect to be able to operate in Tonga for much longer, says that the drumbeat for change is much louder now. He's sensing growing disillusionment with the royal family.
"There's always been this feeling that we needed to have the King. Our identity as Tongans is so strongly tied to the royal family. In ages past, Tongans have regarded the fonua [the country], the King and the Government as being inseparable.
"Now for the first time, there's a new sense that we love our fonua, but not necessarily our Government. We're not feeling that great about our King, either."
Both Tongan rugby and the monarchy have seen better days. Tongans are an inordinately proud rugby nation. They've been playing the game since sailors and missionaries introduced it in the 1900s, and still look back with pride at wins against Australia in 1973 and France in 1999. Some still remember how the Tongan side beat the Maori team back in the 1960s, when the beloved Queen Salote reigned.
The King's mother was a poet, a composer who wrote hundreds of songs, and a progressive and caring monarch. In 1953, when she visited England for the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II, she endeared herself to thousands by insisting on riding in an open carriage, even as it poured with rain, so she could wave to the equally drenched crowds.
She was a public relations dream. The Brits were charmed by her, and Tongans adored and respected her. In her time, when the Tongan rugby team sang the national anthem, they did it with feeling.
Herald Feature: Tonga
Related links
<i>Tapu Misa:</i> World Cup performance shows up Tongan discontent
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