What is the legacy of the Maoist conflict?
On the anniversary of the launching of the Maoist 'People's War'
Good morning, good afternoon, and good evening from Kathmandu. This is Issue 176 of KALAM Weekly, the only newsletter you need to keep updated with everything happening in Nepal.
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In this newsletter:
Ruling coalition moves to protect party members
Bihari Krishna Shrestha dies
Detailed damage survey of Jajarkot earthquake begins
Kathmandu paves Durbar Marg with granite, criticism ensues
Recommendations
The deep dive: What is the legacy of the Maoist conflict?
Ruling coalition moves to protect party members
Two weeks ago, on February 6, a group of drunken hooligans were caught on CCTV footage beating up two policemen on duty. The police had reportedly attempted to question the drunk youths who were making a public nuisance. The situation escalated when the youths began making threats to the policemen, eventually ending in them attacking the cops. Two of the assailants were arrested a few days later. It then came to light that the youths were all UML student “leaders” from Amrit Science Campus, an institution that has come to be known more for its hooliganism than its academics. Among the assailants was Kamal Joshi, a standing committee member of the All Nepal National Free Student Union, which is affiliated with the ruling UML party. Joshi, however, was initially not arrested. Police sources said that orders from on high had told them not to arrest Joshi.
Numerous news outlets reported that Joshi was untouched while all others had been arrested, leading to a mass outcry on social media. The orders from on high suddenly changed, allowing the police to finally take Joshi into custody. But it remains to be seen whether the case will ever go to court or if he will even be charged with assault.
Then, on Friday, Naya Patrika reported that Rita Singh Baidya, sister of Deputy Prime Minister and Nepali Congress politician Prakash Man Singh, would not be prosecuted for her involvement in a land lease scam. An investigation by the Nepal Police’s Central Investigation Bureau had implicated Baidya and 20 others in the scam where they leased out public land belonging to Bal Mandir, the government-run orphanage, for pennies in return for kickbacks. However, once the new UML-Congress coalition took power, the lead investigating officer was replaced, and the case was deliberately stalled. Now, the CIB has reportedly recommended that the District Attorney not prosecute the case.
These are just two recent instances where the parties in power are attempting to protect their own. The UML is particularly notorious for shielding wrongdoers if they are party members. Kathmandu Mayor Balen Shah has long been up in arms over the UML’s interference in a child abuse case involving Rekha Sharma, a UML provincial MP. Shah has publicly accused UML chair and Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli of intervening directly in the case to make sure it wouldn’t move forward. Thankfully, the media remains vigilant and social media has provided citizens with a megaphone to make their dissatisfaction heard.
Bihari Krishna Shrestha dies
Bihari Krishna Shrestha, perhaps one of the most influential public administrators in Nepali history, died last Friday at the age of 88. Shrestha, an anthropologist, government secretary, and member of the National Planning Commission, pioneered numerous programs that have gone on to change the face of modern Nepal. Shrestha drew on his training as an ethnographer and anthropologist to push projects that placed so much of Nepal’s heritage and capacity into local hands. Shrestha was instrumental in pushing for the formation of local “user groups,” especially in community forestry. These community forest user groups, organized under the FECOFUN umbrella, are directly responsible for preserving and expanding Nepal’s forest cover. His work championing local communities continued with his advocacy for Aama Samuhas, or Mother’s Groups. These groups of local mothers act as informal guardians, advocating for women’s rights and resolving disputes within the community. Shrestha similarly championed Female Community Health Volunteers (FCHVs), women who conduct some of Nepal's most impactful healthcare work.
But Shrestha was a man of contradiction. This champion of decentralization was opposed to many of Nepal’s recent changes, especially federalism. An ethnic Newa from Kathmandu, Shrestha saw communal threats in the rise of ethnic identity consciousness and the pursuit of federal provinces based largely on identity. He was also said to be more than sympathetic to the erstwhile monarchy, even though he did not speak on this issue much. Still, that did not affect his advocacy of the right of local communities to own and manage their environment. His work on community forestry contributed directly to Elinor Ostrom’s 2009 Nobel Prize in Economics “for her analysis of economic governance, especially the commons.” Ostrom, drawing on Shrestha’s work and Nepal’s model of community forestry, disproved the long-held notion that allowing communities to use resources collectively would lead to exploitation and depletion. As Nepal has shown, communities do not exploit local resources; instead, informal rules and practices are established to preserve and sustain these resources for future generations.
Shrestha was among the last of the old doyens of Nepali culture and academia. He was a civil servant, wrote numerous books, articles, and research papers, and was active in civil society. Although he was very critical of the current crop of politicians, he liked to call himself the “peaceful Fidel Castro,” journalist Basanta Basnet writes in his obituary of Shrestha. Like his friend and colleague Satya Mohan Joshi, Shrestha was a personality who contributed heavily to modern Nepal, cementing ideas and establishing programs that will live long after he is gone.
Detailed damage survey of Jajarkot earthquake begins
Over a year since a 6.4 magnitude earthquake struck mid-western Nepal, a detailed damage assessment has finally begun, The Kathmandu Post reports. The quake, which hit the districts of Jajarkot, Rukum West, and Salyan districts in November 2023, killed over 150 people, destroyed 76,000 homes, and displaced thousands of families. Since then, these families have survived two winters in temporary shelters as reconstruction has yet to begin, and relief promised by the government has not materialized. They have braved the monsoon rains, the cold, and water shortages. Over 50 quake victims living in temporary shelters have died due to cold, various illnesses, and natural disasters. These deaths could perhaps have been prevented if reconstruction and rehabilitation had begun earlier.
Reconstruction could not begin without a detailed damage assessment report, which is only starting now. The government has also delayed providing immediate Rs 50,000 relief to victims who lost homes due to concerns about “fake victims” receiving relief, the same thing that happened after the 2015 earthquake. Most victims have only received the first tranche of Rs 25,000, which is nowhere near enough to construct a home. Government officials say that there is confusion over which of the three tiers of government is responsible, leading to no one being responsible. This is deplorable. It seems we learned nothing from the aftermath of the 2015 earthquakes. The state continues to fail citizens right when they need the most help.
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Kathmandu paves Durbar Marg with granite, criticism ensues
This past week, Kathmandu Metropolitan City began repaving Durbar Marg, the most posh thoroughfare in Kathmandu, with granite. Social media reacted predictably, with one side appreciative and the other critical. While those who supported the move said that the granite pavements would add new aesthetic beauty to Kathmandu’s most high-end space, detractors argued that the granite would be slippery and could cause pedestrian accidents. Since then, numerous citizens have taken it upon themselves to try and prove just how slippery (or not) the new pavements are. The verdict is still out.
This discourse persists on social media, but some broader questions remain. For instance, Durbar Marg is already the most upscale part of Kathmandu. Why does it need yet another improvement? The city has spent millions of rupees on upgrading the pavement. Could that money not have been used to upgrade pavements elsewhere in the city? Numerous pavements around town could do with a makeover. Just normal tiles or bricks would do; don’t even need fancy granite. Numerous roads lack pavements altogether or have just a narrow strip to walk on. It says a lot that the Balen Shah administration has prioritized Durbar Marg over other spaces. A city cannot be built on aesthetics alone.
Recommendations
Article: If you don’t know where you are going, any road will take you there by Bihari Krishna Shrestha, Nepali Times
Article: A visit to Madam Bedi by Tara Westover, The New Yorker
The deep dive: What is the legacy of the Maoist conflict?
One of the very first images of the Maoist leadership during the war years. Sita Dahal, wife of Pushpa Kamal Dahal, stands to the left next to Pushpa Kamal Dahal ‘Prachanda’, who is flanked by Baburam Bhattarai and his wife Hisila Yami.
On February 4, 1996, Baburam Bhattarai and Pampha Bhusal handed over a 40-point list of demands to then-prime minister Sher Bahadur Deuba. The demands included the abolishment of the monarchy, declaration of Nepal as a secular state, writing of a new constitution, an end to all forms of discrimination, and land and wealth redistribution. The letter — signed by Bhattarai as chairman of the central committee of the United People’s Front, the above-ground arm of the underground Maoist party — gave the government 14 days until February 17 to take steps to meet the demands or else they would be “forced to adopt the path of armed struggle against the existing state power.”
The Communist Party of Nepal-Maoist did not wait for the deadline to expire. On February 13, 1996, 29 years ago, Maoist guerillas led by Barsha Man Pun launched an attack on a police post in Holeri, Rolpa district, armed just with vintage rifles and knives. Over the next few days, police posts in Rukum and Sindhuli would be attacked, a liquor factory blown up in Gorkha, and a landlord looted in Kavre. The Maoist ‘People’s War’ had officially begun.
By the time the war ended 10 years later, in 2006, 17,000 Nepalis would’ve lost their lives, with thousands more injured and disappeared. People were displaced, homes and infrastructure destroyed, and the economy left in shambles. But the war also brought about a newfound consciousness of class and caste. The Maoists, who had initially embarked on a crusade to end all forms of inequality, might have failed in their mission, but others were inspired to begin their own non-violent struggles to demand a share in the national project. Madhesis, Janajatis, Dalits, women, and other marginalized spoke out more, asking that their voices too — not just that of Hindu, upper caste Khas-Arya men — be heard in the national chorus.
Every year, when February 13 comes around, we in the media reflect on the legacy of the most momentous event in recent Nepali history. The 10-year civil conflict led directly to the Nepal we know today, a secular federal republic. Granted, federalism was not a Maoist demand; it was the Madhes Movement that made federalism a reality. But so much else of modern Nepal can be tied directly to the conflict. Yet, the question we ask is, was it all worth it? Were 17,000 deaths necessary to establish the “new Nepal” we have now?
The poet Bhupi Sherchan once wrote, “हुँदैन बिहान मिर्मिरेमा तारा झरेर नगए / बन्दैन मुलुक दुई-चार सपूत मरेर नगए” (Morning won’t come unless a few stars fall away / A nation can’t be built unless a few good sons pass away.) Nepal values sacrifice, which is why we have over two dozen martyrs who gave their lives for democracy in the 40s and then again in the 2000s. Martyrdom is a way of living forever beyond this mortal coil. But the thousands who died in the Maoist conflict were not martyrs; many of their deaths were involuntary, caught in the crossfire between two warring parties. Their deaths might’ve meant something had the ideals behind the conflict been realized. Unfortunately, the ones who led the conflict have themselves betrayed their motivations.
The Maoists of today are not the Maoists of 1996. The Pushpa Kamal Dahal of today’s parliamentary Maoists would be wholly unrecognizable to the Prachanda of yesterday’s guerilla Maoists. All ideals have been cast aside for the sake of expediency and political horsetrading. The Maoist footsoldiers have all been cast aside. Most of them have migrated to foreign lands for work; others live with post-traumatic stress disorder and lifelong injuries. But those who never fought the war, like Dahal’s right-hand man Narayan Kaji Shrestha, have been rewarded with high-level ministerial positions. Baburam Bhattarai, second-in-command during the war, has deserted Dahal and the Maoists, disillusioned. Other influential commanders, like Nanda Kishor Pun, are content with remaining out of active politics.
So what was it all for? Was the war simply an avenue for some to get themselves into annals of power like so many intellectuals these days argue? No, I don’t believe that. At the outset, the Maoists truly believed in their cause and were willing to put their lives on the line. No one fights a war for 10 years, afraid they might be killed at any moment, just because they want political power. There are far easier ways to enter politics and climb the ladder in Nepal. But things changed. Once they entered the very system they had once vowed to destroy, they were coopted by that very system. Capitalism has a way of subsuming every act of resistance. The game is the game, but you cannot lose if you do not play. Unfortunately, the Maoists chose to play the game. Today, they might be the third largest party in the federal Parliament, but their relevance is fast fading.
I discussed many of these issues with Dr. Thomas A Marks yesterday during our live virtual event, the live video of which will be made available very soon Dr. Marks, an expert on guerilla and irregular warfare who’s conducted extensive research on the Maoists and continues to visit Nepal every year, provided insights on the motivations behind the war and the role of ideology in driving the conflict. I asked Dr. Marks about the root causes of the conflict and if they had been addressed in the 19 years since the war had ended. Dr. Marks answered that rather than the causes themselves, the Maoists’ political assessment and organizational effort led to the war. The Maoists drew on disillusionment among marginalized groups, especially women and the indigenous, but in the years since, little has been done to enact structural changes to benefit these groups, despite the Maoists leading government multiple times. The party might have had a majority Indigenous Janajatis among its rank and file, but the top leadership was always Bahun and male. Despite the presence of women like Hisila Yami, Pampha Bhusal, and Onsari Gharti Magar, they were never in positions of real power within the party.
Dr. Marks pointed out what many say about Nepal: the more things change, the more they remain the same. The Nepal we have today is radically different from the Nepal of 1996. In addition to the political changes that have transformed Nepal into a federal, secular republic, Dr. Marks pointed out major infrastructure achievements — roads to every corner of Nepal, mass electrification, and mass mobile connectivity. Remittances, too, now come from all kinds of migrants, not just British Gurkhas and migrants to India. Yet, politics and governance remain plagued by corruption, myopia, and self-centredness. Despite ethnic consciousness, upper-caste Bahun-Chhetri men continue to lord over Nepal like their own personal fiefdom. Janajatis and Madhesis still encounter discrimination and violence from the state, as we saw recently over the Mukkumlung cable car. Women are still unable to pass citizenship to their children independent of their husbands.
So, was it worth it? I don’t know. I don’t have an answer, and I don’t think anyone else does either. Would we have gotten to where we are today without the Maoist conflict? In some instances, yes, but in others, perhaps not. Development and infrastructure would perhaps have come regardless of the conflict, but mass class and caste consciousness among Nepalis, perhaps not. But is there a chance that such a conflict could ever come about again? Dr. Marks does not think so. Rather than such ideology-based conflicts, the danger, he says, lies in something like Gujarat occurring in Nepal — communal violence stoked by unscrupulous political actors. He cautioned that Nepal needs to remain vigilant, as what happens across the southern border tends to seep northward.
For better or for worse, the conflict happened, and what matters now is what we do now. Until transitional justice is ensured for the victims of the conflict, wounds will continue to fester. Politicians might forget, but the people don’t. And unfortunately, nearly 20 years since the conflict ended, victims who lost limbs, family members, and friends continue to wait for justice that never seems to come. Sometimes, it feels like we learned nothing from our 10-year history of violence.
That’s all for this week. I will be back next Friday, in your emails, for the next edition of KALAM Weekly.
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