When the Tonga XIII take the field against the Kiwis at Eden Park tomorrow afternoon, one thing is certain — the fans will be there. The red flags will wave, the drums will beat, and the stands will once again become a sea of red. Whether in Auckland, Nuku‘alofa, Sydney, Salt Lake City, Tokyo, or London, Tongans everywhere will be united in pride for their beloved team, the Mate Ma‘a Tonga (MMT).
This unity, born in 2017 during the unforgettable Rugby League World Cup campaign, remains one of the most powerful expressions of Tongan identity on the global stage. The world saw a small island nation transform rugby league, not through wealth or resources, but through passion, faith, and solidarity. That moment — when Tonga nearly defeated England in the semifinals — became a defining chapter in Pacific sport.
But behind that emotional success story, a different battle was unfolding. It was a story not of tries and tackles, but of governance, accountability, and the politics of power.
In the years following the 2017 World Cup, the administration of Tongan rugby league became embroiled in internal disputes and legal challenges. Allegations were raised about the management of finances, sponsorships, and decision-making. In one troubling example, financial control reportedly rested with the national coach and manager rather than an independent board. Such arrangements, inconsistent with proper governance, undermined transparency and accountability within the sport.
The High Court of Tonga eventually intervened, dismissing the existing board and ordering the appointment of a new one — along with a full audit of accounts that had not been updated since 2013. That audit never happened. Instead, divisions deepened, and individuals with competing agendas — including disgruntled former board members and political figures — entered the fray.
Among those who lobbied the International Rugby League (IRL) were influential voices from Tonga’s political circles, including former Deputy Prime Minister Semisi Sika, who reportedly provided information later refuted by then Prime Minister Dr. Pohiva Tu‘i‘onetoa. Despite this, IRL moved swiftly to back a new administration largely made up of non-Tongans, while expelling the Tonga National Rugby League (TNRL) from its membership.
This decision marked a turning point. It effectively sidelined local authority in favor of external management — a move that many Tongans saw as undermining national sovereignty in sport. The irony, however, is that while IRL used its global leverage to reshape the governance of Tongan rugby league, it could not take the one thing that truly belonged to Tonga: the Mate Ma‘a Tonga name and brand, which remains trademarked by TNRL.
Fast forward to 2025, and the consequences of those years of dispute are still being felt. Tonga remains blessed with immense rugby talent — young players rising through the NRL system in Australia and New Zealand, hungry for opportunity and ready to wear the red jersey with pride. Yet the current coaching setup continues to lean heavily on veterans who may have already passed their peak. For all the loyalty and respect they command, Tonga’s long-term competitiveness will depend on trusting and developing the next generation.