के गर्ने, यस्तै हो

A semi-serious flashback to Nepal's fatalistic culture of national shutdowns

Photo: GOPEN RAI

The new NC-UML government that was sworn in this week is a rare instance where Nepal’s two largest parties that have taken turns overthrowing each other for four decades, are finally in government together.

Ever since the restoration of democracy in 1990, the NC and UML were bitter rivals and demonstrated their one-upmanship while in the opposition by punishing the Nepali people with national shutdowns at the slightest pretext.

Called ‘hartal’ or ‘banda’, these were acts of enforced compliance that banned street movement, closed schools, and all economic activity. A few vehicles that defied the shutdown would be torched early in the morning at busy intersections for maximum publicity to terrorise the public. The tactic worked brilliantly. 

After the end of the conflict in 2006 the Maoists also weaponised the  banda, and tried to improve on it with multiple-day hartal. That did not go down too well because desperate people spontaneously spilled out into the streets on urgent errands after the first day. 

In that sense, this NC-UML coalition can be called historic. Or it could be history repeating itself as Oli and Deuba, out of sheer habit, start stabbing each other in the back.

Back in the day, banda were central to the Nepali identity, it even became a tourist attraction since trekking expeditions began from Kathmandu airport itself. But can anyone remember the last successful hartal? It sort of went out of fashion, and we miss those good old days.

Let’s see if the jilted Comrade Lotus Flower does not get nostalgic and start calling for national shutdowns against Deuba and Oli for pulling the rug from under him. 

We must admit that banda organisers in the past had class, pizzazz, style and gumption. Civil servants, students, workers all rejoiced when a shutdown was announced because it meant an unscheduled holiday. For some reason, street vigilantes banned four-wheelers, but pedal rickshaws were allowed. (Four legs bad, three legs good.)

This was in the prehistoric era before PUBG, TikTok, and Youtube, so youngsters could take full advantage of the empty streets to play football, cricket and water polo, in one curious case involving a healthy-sized pothole in Pulchok. 

Taxis were toasted, tyre pyres burned in the streets and the city was overcome with the smell of burning rubber. We tracked down a party faithful who used to be a banda enforcer, now older and wiser, who misses the fun and excitement.

“I was in charge of sourcing tyres,” he recalled. “Truck tyres were the best, but sometimes we had to do with skinny motorcycle ones. But for a real long-lasting bonfire, tractor tyres were much sought after. Sometimes we burnt tyres still attached to cars.”

This comrade got so hooked to tyres that he gave up his Unified Marxist-Leninist ideals and transferred his skills to selling tyres in Melbourne, pursuing his lifelong passion for rubber and tread.

One reason banda were so successful was that with all the holidays for festivals and new years, that another day or two off did not feel at all strange. Somewhere deep in our dharmic souls, fatalistic Nepalis even believed that we deserved shutdowns. 

Today the only banda we have are state-sponsored ones during the state visit of a Qatari Prince, or another stopover by Prime Minister Modi or President Xi, when the streets are all cleared and everyone can enjoy a well-deserved break away from work.

Records show that the last banda was called by the Biplav faction of breakaway Maoists some years ago, and enforced by the strategic placement of a couple of ominous looking pressure cookers on traffic junctions. But people had stopped paying heed, and it was a big flop.

Even though the relaxation of an unexpected day off is hard to pass up today, 21st century Nepalis know that each day wasted is another day’s delay in getting a visa to leave the country.

There may be a rationale for reviving the banda culture: to reduce Nepal’s carbon footprint and allow the country to meet its SDG target by 2030. The country’s petroleum import bill would come down, narrowing our trade deficit. There would be enormous health benefits from better air quality, so we can all breathe again. A banda would therefore be better than subsidising EVs. For a re-run of the banda lifestyle, we will have to wait and see if this NC-UML coalition implodes, or if impatient Maoist comrades take to streets again to call for one of their one-week shutdowns. And if there is a re-emergence, we are sure Nepalis will go along saying “के गर्ने” or “यस्तै हो".

Vishad Raj Onta