The success of any political-constitutional system is based on four key elements.

To survive, it has to be able to manage contradictions in society. These could range from transactional but unequal relationships between capital-labour and landlord-tillers to the competition between different population segments for government largesse. For this purpose, states use coercion while simultaneously creating mechanisms to settle disputes. If the system fails to strike a balance, and weighs in too heavily in favour of one group, it will face challenges.

Second, the system has to provide tangible benefits to multiple constituencies who will then develop a stake in the larger framework. This involves engineering an elite compact and getting those on the periphery to buy into the idea of the state as something that will lift them up from state of oppression.

Third, politicians need to keep an ear to the ground, sense shifts in public opinion, and respond to changing aspirations. And most importantly, all the political forces need to feel locked in to the constitutional order, and follow the rules of the game. Once they feel there is no alternative, the possibility of a systemic challenge lessens.

The 1990 order fell because it did not meet all these conditions. NC and UML failed to sense brewing conflicts in the hills and then responded in a totally ham-handed away, with the king adding to the mess later. There was little institutional coherence between the pillars of the constitution.

The discontent among those outside Kathmandu, those outside the Bahun-Chhetri fold, and the poor only grew when they perceived the system to be synonymous with open loot for the Kathmandu-centric establishment. The pie did not grow rapidly enough, and was not distributed evenly enough. Citizens felt they did not have security, and for most, the newfound liberty was not translating into material improvement

Some of the perceptions may or may not have been true, but there were few left to defend the system. The elites had characteristically spread their bets – keeping channels open with all sides with a willingness to swing either way depending on where power resided at any moment. The depth (or lack of it) of their conviction was evident when palace loyalists turned into die-hard republicans in less than a year. The Maoists did the rest, by convincing a vast majority the 'sarkar' had to be overthrown, and showed this was possible by attacking state authority.

These lessons are instructive because it is time to ask where the 2006 transitional system stands.

The new arrangement has done a better job of addressing demands than any other previous system. Relatively speaking, there is a degree of peace and calm in the districts. Many have called it appeasement, but there is a reason why there has been no Madhesi movement or major ethnic ferment over the past two years. The system has accepted the legitimacy of their issues, co-opted some of their leaders, and promised to institutionalise changes. There has also been an unprecedented democratisation of political society and public space – with newer groups asserting claim over resources at the local level. All of them have a stake in ensuring that this framework is not abandoned for the unknown.

But the problems are all too apparent. The political polarisation is not merely a Madhav Nepal-Dahal or Ram Chandra-Dahal battle. It is a reflection of the inability of the system to reconcile contradictions between political forces that represent different classes and group interests. The latent anger among Madhesi and Janjati leaders who see Bahun-Chhetri leaders deliberately dragging their feet on the process will also complicate matters.

Add to this the shrinking numbers of those who defend the 2006 system. It was the fear of the Maoists, and the recognition that monarchical rule was not sustainable, that drove the elites to back the peace accord. But with the monarchy gone, and the Maoist aura dissipating, the yearning for strongman rule is back once again. At the popular level, the disdain for politicians is returning too. If the defining cry across the country five years ago was for peace, the one universal demand now is jobs. The failure of the present system to generate employment is discrediting it thoroughly.

There is no organised force to fill the vacuum, nor a clear roadmap of what an alternative arrangement will look like. The only reason the system lasts is because such a large segment of the population has seceded from it – look at the transnational Nepali proletariat.

All of this means that the coming failure of Nepal's experiment with peace and constitutionalism may not result in outright confrontation. But the grammar of anarchy, to borrow Ambedkar's evocative phrase, is in place.

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