Views of a Nepali Economist

The following opinion piece was published in Republica on September 21, 2015. The direct link to Rpublica is here.

Here is an indisputable fact we have to live with: The new constitution has been brought into force. Some have lauded it as an accomplishment that every Nepali should be proud of and hence something to be celebrated. On the other hand, some have called it an example of a "brute majority." However, we are a democracy, and a democracy works through brute majority. We needed two-thirds of elected representatives to vote for the constitution to pass. But over 85 percent of our Constituent Assembly members voted for it. That is democracy at work.

Here is another indisputable fact: Not everyone is happy with the new constitution. However, unhappiness is part of the democratic process. Some segments of Nepali society—and our neighbor to the south—wanted a constitution based on absolute consensus. But 100 percent consensus is impossible in a democratic system. Somebody always disagrees. There are claims that 40 percent of Nepal—the Madhesh—was not represented in new Constitution. That is false. Many CA members who voted to pass the new constitution represent their constituents in Madhesh. Their votes may not have pleased all of their constituents. Again, a democratic system does not please everybody. Every member of the public did not vote for the constitution. They voted for their CA representatives, who then voted for the constitution.

So, as things stand, a section of the country is celebrating while another section burns. There should be no doubt that there are legitimate Madheshi, Tharu, and indigenous grievances. However, their agendas have failed to capture popular imagination. Madheshi leaders bear much responsibility for that failure. Part of the failure lies in how key issues were defined. For example, who is a Madheshi? When I was a kid, I remember my grandfather telling me that even my great-great-grandfather did not know where our "Pahad" was. Our guess is that one of our ancestors several generations ago left Jiwanpur VDC in Dhading to go live in Sunsari. But we're not sure. All I know is I am as much a Madheshi as my Sah and Yadav classmates I went to school with. The leaders need to ask themselves if people like us were left out of the Madheshi discourse.

There should also be no doubt that there has been a systematic exclusion of many groups—some by the age-old caste system, some by the state, and others by systemic designs of the rich and powerful elites. I have witnessed this growing up in the Tarai. For example, I have not seen the economic and social status of Tharus in Sunsari improve during my lifetime. They definitely do not have access to the same level of opportunities as I do. Yet, we lived together, side by side. This is certainly the case with Tharus in the Mid-west and Far-west, too. And this is certainly the case with dozens of other minority groups in Nepal. Something is seriously wrong with the way our society functioned so far. It needs an overhaul.

Many in the Tarai were hoping that the new constitution would be cure-all of the centuries-old societal ills and deficiencies. While I do not claim to understand how the disgruntled groups in Nepal feel, as a rational person, I can understand their disappointment. First, state restructuring—and seven proposed states—continues to marginalize the minorities. Second, there is no doubt that the constitution relegates women as second-class citizens. For a constitution written in the twenty-first century, these are inexcusable offenses.

However, there is a hope. The constitution is not a final document. It is a guide. It can be amended—as many times as needed. For example, seven provinces are not final. A Tharuhat province can still be realized. Kailai and Kanchanpur can merge with Bardiya, Banke and Dang to form a new province. This eighth province can materialize if the parliaments in province numbers 5 and 7 vote and approve that idea.

That is not wishful thinking. This kind of restructuring happens all the time in federal republics. When India became a republic after the British left, it had around half-a-dozen states. Today, India has 29 states, and there are ongoing movements in many Indian states for even more states. For example, Bihar split and became two states in 2000—Bihar and Jharkhand. But there are groups fighting to split Bihar further into three states—new Bihar, Bhojpura, and Mithila. Similar movements are afoot in Tamil Nadu, Odisha, Maharastra, Karnataka, Madhya Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, Assam, and West Bengal. The point is: groups who feel left out of state restructuring need not worry. The design can always be changed.

The same is true on issues of citizenship and inclusion. It will be easier to resolve those under a federal republic because states can use their economic might, public's voice, and the parliament's vote to put pressure on national governments for change. The states with majority Tarai districts will have stronger economies and larger populations. They can use that economic and demographic might to put pressure on both provincial and federal governments for progressive laws on citizenship and inclusion. The current law on citizenship is a disgrace, and states will need to play a role to push for greater equality.

Labels: constitution, ethnic federalism, madhes

The following opinion piece was published in Republica on September 15, 2015. The direct link to Republica is here.


There are signs that once again—as happened during previous Madhesh uprisings—grievance against the state in the Tarai is starting to turn into communal conflict. The current conflict is between dissatisfied Madheshi groups and state security apparatus. However, there are signs that dissatisfied Madheshi groups will soon be locked in confrontation with the group they view as bourgeois—the hill people living in the plains.

Of course, the Tarai-based leaderships refuse to acknowledge this. I have met people and heard their stories about how they suffered when the first Madhesh Uprising morphed into communal violence against hill people in the Tarai, most notably in Janakpur and surrounding areas. However, Madheshi leaders spearheading current demonstrations argue that as during the Maoist conflict—when grievances of mostly hill Janajatis (although the Maoist movement had significant support of Tarai-based groups, too) were brought to the fore—the current crisis in Tarai owes to a situation of Madheshis demanding that the state address their grievances.

However, the comparison is not accurate. The Maoists did not claim to be organizing peaceful demonstrations. They explicitly said theirs was an armed rebellion. Madheshi leadership in the Tarai today claim the current movement is peaceful, while the reality is different. Madheshi leaders need to understand that there is a difference between lawlessness and lawful disobedience. They are not the same.

Maoist insurgents had showdowns with state security forces, and both sides knew the other was armed. On the other hand, Madheshi leaders, to make their 'peaceful' demonstrations successful, got on the stage and asked their cadres to come armed with javelins, swords, and guns. Armed crowds attacked unarmed policemen trying to restore order. Unarmed policemen have been maimed and killed. After calling on their cadres to bring weapons and attack the police, Madheshi leaders have no moral right to say they did not anticipate killings of police personnel—as well as the subsequent police response. They are responsible for this mess. It is time for the Madheshi leadership to decide what it wants. Does it want a peaceful demonstration or an armed rebellion?

The answer to that question is critical because it allows the state to prepare and respond accordingly. Right now, the state has been preparing for peaceful demonstrations (taking Madheshi leaders at their word), but it is facing armed rebellion instead. If you are going to make it a fight, make it a fair fight.

Attacking unarmed off-duty policemen (as in Tikapur), dragging and killing unarmed and injured policemen from inside ambulances (as in Jaleshwor), and pouring petrol over unarmed policemen stationed in custom checkpoints with an intent to burn them alive (as in Biratnagar) are not signs of peaceful demonstrations. Ordering entire communities to send family members armed with weapons (as in Kailali) to a supposedly "peaceful rally" is not what legitimate political leaders do. Mobilizing and paying school children (as in Morang and Sunsari) to enforce shutdowns and instigating them to clash with the police are unbecoming of democratically elected leaders.

Ordering entire communities to not rent rooms to police and army personnel is the kind of thing you hear a Taliban leader do in Afghanistan. Asking people to go fight the police, become a martyr, and collect Rs 50 lakh is something that ISIS and Al Qaeda leaders ask of their suicide bombers. Is there no difference between a Madheshi political leader and an ISIS or an Al Qaeda or a Taliban leader? In the face of these developments, why is the Madheshi leadership surprised that the state has started to respond in kind, with bullets?

Our national leaders in government refuse to use the term "terrorism" to define what is happening in Tarai. Sushil Koirala and the current lot of old, white-haired political leaders in Nepali Congress and CPN-UML were called terrorists by Panchayat governments. The Maoist Party was labeled a terrorist organization by none other than the United States. That weight on their shoulders does not allow them to label current activities in Tarai as "terrorism." However, their inability to call a spade a spade does not mean it is not a spade. What has happened in the Tarai these past couple of weeks is terrorism, plain and simple.

Other groups—frustrated with the long general shutdown—have started to rise against the agitators in some places, like Mills Area in Biratnagar. This is sure to result in a clash of egos between those enforcing the shutdowns and those opposing it. If similar opposition catches fire everywhere, we are looking at many more dead bodies in our streets.

Many Madheshi leaders guiding the current uprising in Tarai were sore losers in the last CA election. Their losses reflected the constituents' loss of faith. However, their current role in inciting an armed aggression against the state and against other community members is a desperate attempt to hang on to past glories and stay relevant. This is not to say Madheshi demands are not valid. But the path of violence that their leaders have decided to take does not lead to redemption. It leads to a predictably sad end for everyone involved.

Labels: communal conflict, madhes, terrorism