Despite countries amassing huge atomic arsenals, one reason deterrence has worked since the end of World War II, according to proponents, is that all-out nuclear war is so unthinkable.&nbsp; Yet, with no end in sight to fighting in Ukraine and West Asia, a new Cold War that pits US vs Russia and China, and the second coming of an erratic American president, have all made nuclear conflict thinkable in 2025 and beyond. Russia has repeatedly threatened the use of nuclear weapons against Ukraine and last month fired a new hypersonic intermediate-range ballistic missile at the Dnipro. And it has put into orbit a new <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2024/12/05/opinion/nuclear-weapons-space.html" target="_blank">prototype satellite</a> that can knock out other satellites with a nuclear explosion in space.&nbsp; Donald Trump and Benjamin Netyanyahu have reportedly spoken about a joint strike on Iranian nuclear installations. North Korea has been testing long range missiles for its nuclear warheads. Tensions remain high between nuclear-armed India and Pakistan. These dangers come on top of signs of accelerated climate breakdown with weather extremes, record-breaking heat, and rapid melting of polar icecaps and Himalayan glaciers. ‘The world-ending potential of nuclear weapons looms over populations around the world,’ writes Cameron Vega in <a href="https://thebulletin.org/2023/11/the-climate-blind-spot-in-nuclear-weapons-policy/" target="_blank">Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists</a>. ‘Climate change is a slower-moving catastrophe, but it openly threatens every community.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241226081236_8ebdd11d4d252d449b0347548372e1649de3637e1947f75609909bbf26d00555.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241226081236_8ebdd11d4d252d449b0347548372e1649de3637e1947f75609909bbf26d00555" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="533" loading="lazy" alt="Thinking the thinkable NT"> </figure>  The Bulletin’s <a href="https://thebulletin.org/doomsday-clock/" target="_blank">Doomsday Clock</a> was reset to 90 seconds before midnight (from 100 seconds) in January this year due to ‘ominous trends that continue to point the world toward global catastrophe’. The minute hand on the Doomsday Clock has been reset 25 times since 1947, and it is most likely be brought forward to less than a minute in 2025. &nbsp; Both climate breakdown and nuclear war are human induced, but while one is heating up the planet the smoke and dust from explosions of the other will cool it. Either way, both threats are inextricably linked.&nbsp; Even the tactical use of battlefield nuclear weapons would have a climate impact. And climate-induced disasters, crop failures, water shortage, mass migration and ensuing socio-political unrest could spark wars that go nuclear. This is without even considering the long term effect of radioactive fallout on land, water and sea. <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s43016-022-00573-0" target="_blank">Research at Rutgers University</a> recently projected that even a one-week nuclear exchange between India and Pakistan would cause the collapse of food systems worldwide, killing 2 billion people from starvation. Prevailing winds would carry the fallout to the Himalaya and Tibetan Plateau, irradiating glaciers that feed into all of Asia’s main rivers. An all-out nuclear war between the United States and Russia would cause a nuclear winter lasting more than 15 years, the study showed, unleashing a global famine that would kill 5 billion people.&nbsp; Anti-nuclear activists now challenge the security paradigm based on nuclear deterrence, and have instead pushed for a ban on nuclear weapons. At a meeting on the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons at the United Nations in New York last December, members declared that the doctrine of deterrence used by nuclear-armed states and their allies was a threat to human security and an obstacle to nuclear disarmament.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241226081236_407d70a5620963d36f53e2c5718e0e12aad446374f358fb4b574701ee1f03e14.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241226081236_407d70a5620963d36f53e2c5718e0e12aad446374f358fb4b574701ee1f03e14" data-rendition-name="original" width="667" height="726" loading="lazy" alt="Thinking the thinkable NT"> </figure>  The meeting heard that deterrence is an unproven gamble and based on the implicit threat to use nuclear weapons which itself is playing brinkmanship with nuclear annihilation. “Deterrence is unacceptable,” stated Melissa Parke of <a href="https://www.icanw.org/people_and_structure" target="_blank">ICAN ((International Campaign to Abolish Nuclear Weapons)</a>. “It is based on the threat to wage nuclear war which would kill millions outright and lead to a nuclear winter and mass starvation that would kill billions of people.”&nbsp; ICAN was awarded the <a href="https://www.icanw.org/nobel_prize" target="_blank">Nobel Peace Prize in 2017</a> for its activism against the catastrophic humanitarian consequences of any use of atomic weapons, and its work to push the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons.&nbsp; It has been 50 years since the discussions on a draft of the <a href="http://www.un.org/disarmament/WMD/Nuclear/NPTtext.shtml" target="_blank">Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT)</a> was first held in Geneva. The NPT entered into force in 1970, and has the membership of <a href="http://disarmament.un.org/treaties/t/npt" target="_blank">191 States</a>, with mandatory obligations on disarmament and non-proliferation.&nbsp; However, these commitments are now threatened by a new Cold War and increased global tensions. Nine nuclear weapon states have total stockpiles of 14,500 warheads, many of them on missiles ready to be launched. Three countries in Nepal’s immediate neighbourhood (China, India, Pakistan) have nuclear weapons, and they do not share good relations.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241226081236_cb12ff19e7ad0691773a0cc4a74b4f2b699832495aa90e5dc21462a287f11dcb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20241226081236_cb12ff19e7ad0691773a0cc4a74b4f2b699832495aa90e5dc21462a287f11dcb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1232" height="513" loading="lazy" alt="Doomsday clock"> </figure>  Of the five regions around the world that have declared themselves nuclear weapons free, three are in Asia: Central Asia, Mongolia and the South Pacific. The <a href="https://www.unrcpd.org/about/" target="_blank">United Nations Regional Centre for Peace and Disarmament in Asia and the Pacific (UNRCPD)</a> is located in Kathmandu and helps countries to meet disarmament goals. A report titled <a href="https://www.ippnw.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/ENGLISH-Nuclear-Famine-Report-Final-bleed-marks.pdf" target="_blank">Nuclear Famine</a> by the group <a href="https://www.ippnw.org/programs/nuclear-weapons-abolition/nuclear-famine-climate-effects-of-regional-nuclear-war" target="_blank">International Physicians for the Prevention of Nuclear War</a> sounds a sobering alarm: even a limited nuclear war using only 100 weapons anywhere in the world would disrupt the global climate and agricultural production, and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=89_d9AFmk9Y&amp;t=83s" target="_blank">put 2 billion people at risk of starvation</a>. Coincidentally, 2 billion is also the number of people who would be affected by the melting of glaciers in the mountains of High Asia, according to the <a href="https://hkh.icimod.org/hi-wise/" target="_blank">International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD)</a>. Given the twin global threats, climate activism now has to go hand-in-hand with the campaign to abolish nuclear weapons.&nbsp; Kunda Dixit This Editorial is brought to you by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a>, in collaboration with <a href="https://inpsjapan.com/en/" target="_blank">INPS Japan</a> and <a href="https://sgi-peace.org/" target="_blank">Soka Gakkai International</a>, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.

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Thinking the thinkable

The Rosi River today flows serenely through the sacred 13th century town of Panauti, nestled amidst green hills east of Kathamandu. But on 28 September it was a disaster zone.&nbsp; Rainfall of biblical proportions lashed the valley for three straight days, and the angry brown water of the Rosi bulldozed through the town. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/those-who-stay">Climate breakdown </a>played a part, but the destruction was magnified by unregulated stone and sand mining upstream that fed Kathmandu’s demand for construction material. Across central Nepal, 250 were killed, 25 in Panauti alone. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-tarai-learns-from-past-floods">Encroachment of rivers</a> here in Panauti and elsewhere is not new. Gwancha Deula, 70, would know. He used to catch up to 15kg of fish in a single day from the Rosi. He proudly remembers once lifting a Bam Macha nearly a metre long. But garbage dumping and contamination with insecticides has killed the river. ‘Let alone those cold water trout, even the insects have disappeared,’ Deula tells photographer Prashant Shrestha in his new book 10 People’s Stories -- a compilation of photo stories and archival images of inspirational Panauti people. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-revenge-of-the-rivers">The revenge of the rivers</a>, Shamshad Ahmad in Kavre Shrestha’s own grandfather, Narayandas Shrestha, ran a local watermill when he was 16 and served the community. Then, the construction of a Soviet-aid hydropower plant generating electricity for Kathmandu, urban encroachment, and availability of processed food made his profession obsolete.&nbsp; ‘The stream died,’ Shrestha writes, “and traditional watermills evolved into the modern mills.’ Two chapters about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/somewhere-else/think-locally-act-locally">local political activists</a> speak of a bygone era when idealism was still held in high esteem. One is a lifelong Kangresi and the other a Soviet-returnee Communist. ‘Physically, he limps, but his spirit has never faltered in his 78 years of life,’ writes Sunil Sainju, who wrote the text for the book, of Madhav Narayan Pasache, who started his political activism during the Rana regime and remains dedicated to the Nepali Congress. Pasache played a crucial role in an anti-government movement 70 years ago, and was jailed five times, and tourtured. Once, he was left to die after being tied up and thrown into a deep well. He managed to live and was thrown back into jail. He worked in the prision’s kitchen, but was not allowed to eat what he cooked.&nbsp; Thakur Bhakta Karmacharya has been a life-long Communist, and became a card-carrying member soon after the party was established 70 years ago. He was invited to the Soviet Union, and spent much of his time in what is now Uzbekistan. He is pictured above, arriving at Moscow airport.&nbsp; ‘I travelled to Russia via Delhi and then Kabul,’ he calls. ‘I got to see progress in Russia and attended many political meetings, but what impressed me the most was their love for books. That inspired me to start a library in Panauti…’&nbsp; A book about Paunati or its people cannot be complete without touching on its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/ancient-panauti-s-french-connection">French connection</a>. One chapter looks into an unlikely friendship between Ananta Madhikarmi and French ethnologist Gérard Toffin in 1974.&nbsp; The two explored the valley together, and their research was published. The book generating much interest in France, leading to the French government's involvement in the restoration and urban renewal of Panauti from 1979-1989. The slim volume also has profiles of a photographer, a musician, the once-in-12-year Makar Mela and a month-long Swasthani ritual. Each chapter could be much longer, there is so much more we would like to know about the person profiled.&nbsp; 10 People’s Stories is a tribute to the spirit of the people of Panauti who have worked tirelessly to uplift their community while keeping a low national profile.&nbsp; Published by Panauti Municipality, the volume is proof that despite the doom and gloom among Nepalis about their future, the past holds lessons in resilience and determination. &nbsp;Because nothing is quite as uplifting and inspirational as growing up with local heroes one can look up to.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241222091236_8db32259e6d5e908300b18bac3306487ee3cf18b7c90b875a3bac07f144bf57b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241222091236_8db32259e6d5e908300b18bac3306487ee3cf18b7c90b875a3bac07f144bf57b" data-rendition-name="original" width="640" height="395" loading="lazy" alt="People's stories"> </figure>  &nbsp;

Sonia Awale

Panauti People

To <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Sustainable-Mountain-Development-Getting-the-Facts-Right-Jack-D-Ives,946">Prof Jack Ives</a>, who died on 15 September, goes much of the credit for putting the world’s mountains (including the Himalaya) on the global agenda of scientific and environmental concerns.&nbsp;
His career as a geographer and geomorphologist began even as a high schooler, and as early as 1954 was able to record in Iceland what is today called Glacial Lake Outburst Flood (GLOF) but for which he first used the Icelandic term jökulhlaup.&nbsp;
He broadened his research from glaciers to mountains from where they originate when he joined the &nbsp;University of Colorado in 1967. His achievements in founding and running mountain-related organisations started with the Commission on High Altitude Geoecology under International Geophysical Union (1968) as well as International Mountain Society (1980) and its flagship journal Mountain Research and Development (1981).&nbsp;
It was his participation in the first UNESCO Man and Biosphere Program (1973) and his chairing its International Working Group that eventually led to the founding of International Centre for Mountain Research and Development (<a href="https://www.icimod.org/">ICIMOD</a>) in Nepal in 1983.
My own interaction with him started with the May 1986 Mohonk Mountain conference in upstate New York organised by him and other towering mountain scholars, in particular Prof Bruno Messerli of the University of Berne, Prof Larry Hamilton of the East-West Center, Hawaii, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-present-meets-the-past">Corneille Jest of CNRS Paris</a>, as well as <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3633">Michael Thompson</a> and colleagues at IIASA/Vienna.&nbsp;
If ever a conference could be credited with precipitating a major paradigm shift, it was Mohonk which scientifically debunked the then dominant <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=1211">Theory of Himalayan Degradation (THED)</a>. It had argued that it was population explosion of poor farmers that cut more trees that deforested the Himalaya, leading to rapid runoff and sedimentation that aggravated flooding in the Ganga plains of India and Bangladesh.
Researchers after researchers at Mohonk showed that ‘even if all of Nepal was a canopy of trees with no one living there’ Himalayan mass wasting would be just about the same, primarily because the underlying causes were heavy monsoon precipitation and fragile geology of steep slopes made more unstable by active seismicity along the Himalaya chain.&nbsp;
Bad engineering (especially mountain roads), stone quarrying, sand mining and river bank encroachment would only exacerbate the underlying instability as was seen in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-revenge-of-the-rivers">27-28 September flood in central Nepal</a>. They also described how poor, uneducated and fecund Nepali peasants did not go uphill to cut more forests for subsistence farming and fuelwood: they migrated downhill to the cities of the plains to eke out a living.
The Mohonk conference resulted in several landmark articles in Mountain Research and Development as well as the Ives and Messerli 1989 book The Himalayan Dilemma: Reconciling Development and Conservation.&nbsp;
The most important result of Mohonk was its impact on the 1992 Rio Earth Summit that passed Agenda 21 including the adoption of Chapter 13 on Sustainable Mountain Development. Ives, Messerli and colleagues were greatly helped in getting this mountain agenda on the UN sustainable development map by Maurice Strong, who had been the honorary chair of Mohonk-2 in 1986) as Under-Secretary General of the UN as well as by senior figures of the United Nations University.
I last met Jack Ives in November 2003 at the Bergen conference on Himalayan Fragility organised by the LOS Center and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4675">Michael Thompson</a> who was the main driving force behind that line of research.
About the time Mohonk-1 was held in 1982, Mike and colleagues at IIASA were working on social conflicts and the dynamics of institutional competition that are built around strongly held scientific myths from their experience (as mountaineers besides being researchers) in the Himalaya.&nbsp;
It resulted in their 1986 book <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Sustainable-Mountain-Development-Getting-the-Facts-Right-Jack-D-Ives,946">Uncertainly on a Himalayan Scale</a>, which has subsequently been re-published in 2007 by Kathmandu’s Himal Books (together with IIASA and Oxford University’s James Martin Institute for Science and Civilization) with a 36-page new introduction by Mike and me.&nbsp;
It showed how the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-greening-of-the-khumbu">Theory of Himalayan Degradation</a>’s untenable orthodoxy held sway over Eric Ekholm (<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Losing-Ground-Eckholm-P-Erik/dp/0393091678">Losing Ground, 1976</a>), BBC’s David Attenborough (1984) and Britain’s Overseas Development Agency (1997), making them each predict a dozen years apart that Nepal would have no forest left by 2000. Community forestry since the 1980s has contributed to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/tree-mendous">Nepal doubling its forest cover</a> to 45% of its area in the past 25 years.&nbsp;
The Bergen conference was almost Mohonk-3. By this time, Jack’s new book Himalayan Perceptions (2004, Routledge) was already in the press. It saw him increasingly worried about the continuing hold of the simplistic ‘poor and fecund mountain farmers cutting trees’ alarm over policies of governments, university departments, think tanks and international development agencies.&nbsp;
The bigger threat to the well-being of mountain people came from the fact that most mountains were marginalised borders where hostile armies faced each other, where national urban centres ruthlessly exploited the highland peripheries, and where elite business-led bad development practices made matters worse.
He also saw the real danger of climate change (a scientific reality with wide and long-term consequences) being hijacked by vested interest groups to push bad policies, making it the new THED. If he had not passed away in mid-September and lived to see the end-September flood havoc across Nepal, he would have been alarmed to see how bad engineering and land encroachment policies that made the natural event a major disaster are so easily covered up by blaming climate change.&nbsp;
Two of Jack Ives’s books, <a href="https://himalbooks.com/product/uncertainty-on-a-himalayan-scale/">Uncertainty on a Himalayan Scale</a> and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=1211">Himalayan Perceptions</a>, have been published in their Nepali edition by Himalayan Association for the Advancement of Science in 2006. There is little excuse for Nepali policy makers, journalists, donor agencies and academics in hiding mal-development behind the debunked theory of Himalayan Degradation, old or newly minted.
Dipak Gyawali is an academician at the Nepal Academy of Science and Technology.
Read <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/khumbu-since-1950-jaww4qn0">Jack Ives’ review in Nepali Times</a> of Alton Byer’s book Khumbu Since 1950.

In memoriam: Jack D Ives, 1931–2024

I was a teenager when I was first exposed to the impact of climate breakdown, while staying with a family in Phakding in the aftermath of<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lessons-not-learned-from-2015-o2etq6zu"> the 2015 earthquake</a>.&nbsp;
The communities living along the river were so scared of the Imja Tso glacial lake bursting that they hiked a few hours up the mountain every night for safety. During the day, they came back down to run their tea houses for volunteers and tourists still up in the Khumbu.
There is a clear correlation between livelihoods and the climate crisis. Seeing first hand, ten years ago, how the impact of climate change deepens poverty profoundly shifted my perspective, and motivated me to take up a career on climate finance.
I learnt everything about the subject, worked on projects to mobilise millions of dollars for climate action so that those most vulnerable would be safe.&nbsp;
Yet, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/60-dead-64-missing-in-nepal-floods">this weekend’s floods</a> have shown me that on the ground, absolutely nothing has changed. Those most at risk from climate hazards are at even more risk.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">When it rains it pours</a>, Sonia Awale
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandus-flash-floods-are-4-decades-in-the-making?fbclid=IwY2xjawFrHMtleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHRth_4qOARkJl9oz8RSAdrfer4ox2p7uQH28wKYa0SOe1ZNXaS-Oa1qj9g_aem_9kYwBCg8maslUNwV0Dn_Uw">Kathmandu's ‘flash floods’ are 4 decades in the making</a>, Tom Robertson
It is dreadful to realise that the worst is yet to come. We in the climate finance sector are lost in words, actions and false promises of organisations purporting to help vulnerable countries, communities and families.&nbsp;
There are lofty climate targets and hopeful speeches on net-zero ambitions prepared by people who have no idea of the ground reality. Young people I used to respect proudly demonstrate their saviour complex and exoticise the poor to advance their brand image on social media to gain brownie points.&nbsp;
This week, early-rising <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-trail-running-champions">trail runners</a>, youth groups, and local communities became first responders on the muddy banks of rivers in Kathmandu Valley for rescue and recovery. From agencies claiming to work on 'disaster risk reduction', we heard only words and media campaigns.
Am I the only one losing hope in us collectively responding to what the future requires us to do? &nbsp;
Disasters are now increasingly normalised as Nepal crosses the tipping point on climate breakdown. Elitism and inequality has never been more apparent.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-editorial/act-now-on-climate">Act now on climate</a>, Manjeet Dhakal
This week’s tragedy showed how the high and mighty were safe, and the lowly forced to live along river banks were not. Those who are thinking of moving away from flood-prone areas, buying home insurance and protecting themselves from future impact are perhaps the very people abetting the destruction of the natural environment.
The two rivers that saw the most devastation this week, Rosi Khola and Nakkhu Khola, had <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-struggles-to-balance-nature-and-industry">unregulated sand mining and rampant quarrying</a> upstream — all happening in the name of ‘development’.
I spoke with a dairy farmer in Hatiban whose home and 13 cows were swept away by a stream that had turned into a raging mudflow. He is out in the streets now, with just the one cow that survived. He teared up telling me this. So did I.
A carpenter who lives in a small tin hut near the Karmanasa River told me he has had enough and is now headed back to his village. A neighbourhood garbage recycler has spent the past week living inside a stack of large concrete pipes meant to improve Kathmandu's drainage.&nbsp;
A decade after starting to work on climate change, I know nothing about what to actually do to adapt to the impact of the climate crisis like this one. The 800mm of rain in two days was caused by global warming, but the death toll was higher because of corruption and state negligence.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/climate-damage">Climate damage</a>
There are thousands of tragic stories from this flood, most of them will never be heard. Many are already forgotten.&nbsp;
The guilt coming from the privilege of even being in a position to help in times like these eats me up from the inside. I have spoken to many friends this week working tirelessly, without recognition or organisational support, to help with relief and rescue. Many share the same sentiment: the disaster swept away what little optimism we had.
Yet, there is also hope in the way we have all come together knee-deep in mud, carrying relief supplies and cash to those marooned, destitute and homeless. It is clear that top-down <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/cash-for-climate">response from the government</a> or large relief organisations is always too little, too late and too ineffective. Those who lost everything do not know how to work the system.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/climate-breakdown-magnifies-western-nepal-s-woes">Climate breakdown magnifies western Nepal’s woes</a>, Unnati Chaudhary
In such situations, we must take matters into our own hands. We need to be aware of the impending impact of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-climate-threat-multiplier">climate change</a>, and make our own decisions to build and rebuild resilience among those forced to live in harm's way. &nbsp;
The passion to tackle the climate crisis will not come if we do not have personal stories of how we ourselves are affected. Almost everyone in Kathmandu Valley, Kavre, Dhading and elsewhere now has a personal experience of this climate-induced calamity. The question is, what are we going to do about it?&nbsp;
As I write this on Thursday morning on 3 October, it is raining heavily again. &nbsp;
Rastra Raj Bhandari is a co-founder and fellow at the Himalayan Water Project, where he leads the research on climate finance opportunities for the Himalaya. He contributes regularly to Nepali Times on climate change. rastrarajbhandari@gmail.com
<h2>HOW TO HELP</h2>
· Civil society action is filling gaps in relief and rehab until bigger players take over. 9858000000
· Sudan Gurung, <a href="https://www.haminepal.org/">Hami Nepal</a>
· Saurav Rimal, <a href="https://karmayogfoundation.org/">Karmayog Foundation</a>, 9851139412&nbsp;

Flood of despair

Sudan Gurung is dancing. It is 2009. He has an emo fringe falling over one eye and is spinning on a polished floor. His dance shows dedication — moves that take years of bruised elbows to land. The clip is 16 years old, and had been sitting in the dead archives of YouTube and old Facebook pages, watched by almost nobody. This month <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@4gr4j/video/7621892206902725909">it has 1.9 million views</a>. Gurung became Home Minister on 27 March and resigned on Wednesday, barely a month into office. His<a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@aayvik/video/7626069452177542408"> pre-political life had been put back into circulation</a> at industrial speed -- the b-boying, the DJ sets, and the YouTube video of him dancing in a music clip.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026042202040_71df4d531423e7c941abde95fb8106346c70ab0afb71bbeb520cc570f14ba178.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026042202040_71df4d531423e7c941abde95fb8106346c70ab0afb71bbeb520cc570f14ba178" data-rendition-name="original" width="2300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="When aura meets audit"> </figure>  The youth of Nepal, well-versed in snappy TikTok edits and aura compilations, turned the archive into a meme economy almost overnight. TikTok remixed the footage to trap beats. The comments settled on a nickname that crossed into everyday speech within days: 'Homie Minister'. <div class="embed-block"><blockquote class="tiktok-embed" cite="https://www.tiktok.com/@yalexthwreal/video/7622325255792512276" data-video-id="7622325255792512276" style="max-width: 605px;min-width: 325px;" > <section> <a target="_blank" title="@yalexthwreal" href="https://www.tiktok.com/@yalexthwreal?refer=embed">@yalexthwreal</a> <a title="sudangurung" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/sudangurung?refer=embed">#sudangurung</a> new home minister of Nepal😎 <a title="fyppppppppppppppppppppppp" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/fyppppppppppppppppppppppp?refer=embed">#fyppppppppppppppppppppppp</a> <a title="sudangrg" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/sudangrg?refer=embed">#sudangrg</a> <a title="home" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/home?refer=embed">#home</a> <a title="minister" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/minister?refer=embed">#minister</a> <a target="_blank" title="♬ original sound - •⪨н є α я т ❤н α ¢ к є я ⪩• - Music Universe 🎧" href="https://www.tiktok.com/music/original-sound-•⪨н-є-α-я-т-❤н-α-¢-к-є-я-⪩•-7308733170064231170?refer=embed">♬ original sound - •⪨н є α я т ❤н α ¢ к є я ⪩• - Music Universe 🎧</a> </section> </blockquote> <script async src="https://www.tiktok.com/embed.js"></script></div> As Home Minister, Gurung was in charge of the Nepal Police, Armed Police Force, Department of Immigration, and the country's internal security apparatus. Calling him 'homie' collapsed the distance between that office and the Discord server where the movement that brought him into power had organised itself. What is harder to explain is why the nostalgic clips did the narrative work for Gurung's political standing right up until the moment the paperwork did not. A teenager on a dance floor in a Thamel club, filmed before smartphones had decent cameras, was functioning as political currency for a powerful home minister, while a share registry was quietly filling the other column. The footage was not an argument. Gurung was not doing anything in it that related to home affairs. He was just dancing. The comments compared him to <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@4gr4j/video/7621892206902725909">Korean film heroes</a>. A separate <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@tandavyt7/video/7622151050128018708">48,000-like edit</a> was captioned 'Our New Home Minister Aura'. The replies were full of people saying they got chills listening to him speak. Even after his resignation, most comments on his Facebook page were supportive, saying he had been punished for pursuing truth and justice.&nbsp; Political legitimacy in Nepal has been built out of many things over the last 70 years, but it has never been built out of this. The question was always: what happens when the job starts demanding things his style, boldness, and swag cannot provide. Political aura in Nepal used to be a slow harvest, now it isn't. B P Koirala spent eight years in prison under the Panchayat. He wrote fiction at Sundari Jal. The writing survived, the prison sentences survived, and that experience became the template for what a serious Nepali politician looked like: someone the state had tried to break and failed. Legitimacy was accumulated by having their lives taken away, and refusing to bend the knee. The old mechanics of legitimacy produced politicians who could be audited. The record was made of words, dates, votes, and years behind bars. A voter who wanted to know what a leader stood for read his writings. A journalist digging for inconsistency could find it. The system was slow, often corrupt, and frequently boring. But boring was part of the job description. A minister was supposed to be slightly dull — evidence that the person was doing the unglamorous work of reading files and sitting through committee meetings. Today, boring is a disqualification. The attention economy rewards velocity and visual charge, and a politician who cannot generate either does not exist in the feed, and that means does not exist at all. The legacy parties are still issuing press statements criticising the new guard in the grammar of paper trails and procedural failure. But the audience has stopped reading, users scroll for their next viral bite. Sudan Gurung, unlike the old parties, understood exactly which grammar the feed rewarded. On his first evening as Home Minister, he posted a photo of himself sleeping on a sofa inside the ministry. Caption: creation cannot be greater than the creator, government is not above the people. The image travelled further in 12 hours than any ministerial press release has ever done.&nbsp; A minister napping on a sofa, phone-shot, zero production, read by the public as evidence of a minister who had skipped the motorcade and got straight to work. Gurung used Facebook to announce the names of former ministers and businessmen he intended to arrest. The feed was used to pre-announce state security action.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260422010456_2fa1918e1dd031d01f38b4001ee306d9414073cec0b795fa43a75cb5a8deb8c7.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260422010456_2fa1918e1dd031d01f38b4001ee306d9414073cec0b795fa43a75cb5a8deb8c7" data-rendition-name="original" width="926" height="868" loading="lazy" alt="When aura meets audit"> </figure>  INFLUENTIAL INFLUENCER This is not how the Ministry of Home Affairs has ever operated. It is how a YouTuber releases a series. Sudan Gurung was a political content creator. As home minister, he was an influential influencer kinetically doing something in the visual medium. Much like Prime Minister Balendra Shah's sunglasses, Gurung's aura, authenticity and swag were a brand asset, instantly recognisable at thumbnail size. Balen's rap career supplies a pre-political archive that authenticates him the same way Gurung's DJ sets and b-boying clips authenticated him. The aesthetic is doing the work a manifesto used to do. The work is authenticity, and the strategy is auramaxxing. The emo fringe predates the ministry. The DJ sets predate Hami Nepal. The b-boying predates the earthquake, the NGO, the September uprising, the interim cabinet, all of it. Whatever Gurung is now, he was already that person before the office existed. This was the real spectacle of the Homie Minister: authenticity. Nepal's youth have grown up watching heavily-polished, talking-point ministers speak in a language aimed at nobody in particular. But that grainy archival clip of the Home Minister from 2009 was honest.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260422010456_5d6dff3a09e8b7e77dc60c3aa567c9e02b6bd5f90f94e20737ec05cc9a09023b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260422010456_5d6dff3a09e8b7e77dc60c3aa567c9e02b6bd5f90f94e20737ec05cc9a09023b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1800" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="When aura meets audit NT"> </figure>  The effect transcended GenZ. <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@ektapokharel/video/7623242573481561365">A TikTok trend</a> captioned NOT ONLY OUR HOME MINISTER, WE ARE ALSO FROM THAT ERA <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@sonykhadka/video/7624106790266948872">has millennials posting their own</a> archive photos from the same period, aligning themselves with Gurung's pre-political aesthetic. The aura did <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@_thakuri/video/7623397397556645141">cross-generational work</a>. It was a shared legibility, spanning at least 15 years of Nepali youth culture, with the Home Minister standing at its centre.&nbsp; The traditional politician's entire adult life is a performance of identity. Every photograph is lit for the media, every statement is vetted. The persona is the product, and the product has been in development for 30 years. This makes the old guard legible but suspect in the attention economy. A generation raised on authenticity-as-currency reads the decades of careful performance as evidence of something to hide. The polish is the problem. The nostalgic Sudan Gurung party clips inverted this. The polish was absent. The footage could not be performance aimed at the viewer, because the viewer did not exist in 2009 and neither did the political stakes. The clip was therefore read as real, in a way a press conference can never be. It was just a kid dancing, and he happened to grow up to be the Home Minister. But Sudan Gurung's job was never to go viral. The Ministry of Home Affairs requires the person running it to file a complete asset declaration and to avoid holding financial interests in crony entities.&nbsp; None of that work is content. A correctly filed asset declaration does not get remixed into a trap beat. A functioning immigration database is not a TikTok. The paperwork that constitutes actual governance is structurally boring in exactly the way the old parties are structurally boring, and for the same reason. It is the slow, procedural, checkable apparatus that the old system was built to produce and that the new system has not yet learned to replace. And it is painstaking follow-the-money paper trail investigative journalists in the legacy media who uncovered the evidence. You cannot auramaxx your way out of a share registry. You cannot post your way past a conflict-of-interest statute. No amount of fire outfits and wild DJ transitions does anything for you when a journalist pulls the initial shareholder list of Star Micro Insurance and finds your name at number 49, with Rs2.5 million in shares alongside investors linked to Deepak Bhatta and Sulav Agrawal — two men currently at the centre of a Rs 3.7 billion money laundering investigation. <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@blox.drop/video/7622173520981658900">Auramaxxing was engineered</a> for the mechanics of reaching office. It is the reason Sudan Gurung became Home Minister and Gagan Thapa did not. The question that had not yet been tested, until this week, was whether the same weapon works when the terrain changes. The terrain does change when you assume power. This week, the answer arrived. TWO CLOCKS Two clocks had been running, and they did not sync. The first clock was built for auramaxxing. A clip posted at eight in the morning peaked by noon. A sofa photo was remixed before the minister had left the building. The feedback loop is fast and legible, and a politician playing this clock gets real-time data on what to post next. The old guard never learned to read it, which is a large part of why they lost the election. The second clock was the one the ministry actually runs on. It measures in quarters, court calendars, and the slow grind of investigation files moving between offices. A share registry takes weeks to pull. A money-laundering case moves at the speed of the prosecutor's office, which is to say, it often does not appear to move at all, until one morning it does. The legacy mass media is fed leaks, and the second clock does not care whether the minister is currently trending. The two clocks collided this week, and the second clock got there first. Faster than anyone expected. The first clock put Gurung in the Home Ministry in weeks. The second clock put him out of it in less than a month. On Sunday evening, Diyopost and Janaastha published documents showing Gurung as a founding shareholder in Star Micro Insurance and Liberty Micro Life — companies licensed by the Nepal Insurance Authority in 2022 following what reporting identified as political lobbying by Bhatta and Agrawal. A photograph also surfaced of Hami Nepal, the NGO Gurung chairs, honouring Bhatta as a donor on 21 December 2021. Gurung's first response was auramaxxed. A Monday Facebook post distinguishing ‘rumours’ from ‘facts’, insisting the shares were disclosed within his broader Rs20 million securities portfolio, promising to cooperate with any investigation. "Allegations and truth are not the same thing," he wrote. "Decisions should be based on evidence, not sentiment." It was a coherent clip, but it did not stop the clock. By Wednesday, Prime Minister Balendra Shah had sought written clarification. Leaders within the RSP itself were calling for his resignation. The opposition Nepali Congress had framed the question as one of democratic transparency.&nbsp; Gurung resigned, posting his decision to Facebook as he did everything else. Ethics, he wrote, hold more weight than any position. There is no power greater than public trust. He ended in English, invoking ‘my country … the respect of our security forces … the youths of Nepal’. Even the exit was content. And this is the asymmetry the office exposed. A politician whose legitimacy is built on fast 30 second videos is structurally exposed to a process that runs slower than the news cycle, because the archive of aesthetic proof was not engineered to answer documentary evidence.&nbsp; It was engineered to displace the demand for documentary evidence in the first place. When that demand returns, as it always does once a politician takes office, the digital archive keeps performing, but the documents keep getting uncovered. And the two tracks do not communicate. The old guard knew this clock because they had no other clock to know. What they lost in charisma they gained in durability: a politician built over 20 years of parliamentary record is harder to dislodge with a single document because they have already survived thousands of documents. The new guard has not been stress-tested against its own paper trail. Sudan Gurung has now been tested, and the test is over, and the template has been written in his exit rather than his survival.&nbsp; A politician can enter office on the strength of a dance clip, and the same class of evidence — share registries, company filings, founding-shareholder lists at number 49 — that would have ended the career of a politician in a previous era of Nepali politics has ended his. The second clock got there. The feed did not save him. Or not entirely. Because the resignation itself is now in the feed. The Facebook post. The 46 brothers and sisters. The epic sign-off. Within hours of stepping down, Gurung had already re-enrolled his exit into the same register that put him in office. The clip of the Home Minister dancing in 2009 is still in circulation. The sofa photo still reads as sincerity. The investigation into the micro-insurance shares will move at the speed of Nepal's prosecutor's office, which is to say, at a speed the feed has long since outrun. The movement that installed Gurung in the name of ending elite capture has had its answer about whether its own hero is subject to the same audit it demanded of everyone else. He walked — or was walked — before the audit ran its course. The resignation was framed as moral choice rather than forced exit, and the framing is already winning. Whether that framing holds is the next test. Auramaxxing, it turns out, is a weapon that works in one direction only: it got him the job, and when the documents arrived, it did not save him. But it may yet save the person. These are not the same thing. If the technique is wounded, it is not yet dead. The next Nepali politician with a pre-political archive and a phone is watching how Gurung exits, not just how he entered. And the answer is: you exit the same way you entered: on Facebook. In your own voice. Before anyone else writes the caption. Whether he comes back is the thing to watch. Whether the technique does is already decided. &nbsp; &nbsp;

When Aura meets Audit

At 6 feet and one inch, Hira Bahadur Ghalan was exceptionally tall for a Nepali. In 1936, when people came to his Tamang village near Tistung looking for porters, they recruited him on the spot. This was no ordinary job, Hira Bahadur would lead gangs of 30 or more porters to carry cars bought by Rana rulers from Bhimphedi to Kathmandu.&nbsp; Those were the days when the only motorable roads in Nepal were in Kathmandu, but the capital was not connected to anywhere else by road. So, before cars could carry people, people had to carry cars. More Nepalis had carried cars than ridden in one. The porters were paid Rs5 for the job, and sometimes the Rana owners gave Hira Bahadur a Rs25 baksheesh. One of the cars his community helped carry was a 1939 Daimler Benz gifted by Adolf Hitler to King Tribhuvan to woo Nepal away from the British. The rusted dusty vehicle is now in the Narayanhiti Palace Museum.&nbsp; Hira Bahadur hauled cars for 25 years until his knees gave way, he died at age 90 eight years ago — the last surviving car porters of Nepal from Chitlang Valley.&nbsp; Hira Bahadur Ghalan had three sons and three daughters, one of them is Maila Kaji Lama, who at age 68, is a chauffeur in Kathmandu. His son, Manjil Lama is a pilot with Summit Air, flying to remote Himalayan airstrips. Three generations of one family worked in professions that followed a century of transportation history in Nepal. &nbsp; After the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-long-and-winding-road-to-india">Tribhuvan Rajpath was finished in 1957</a> and the ropeway upgraded, Hira Bahadur was out of a job. He tilled the family farm, watching trucks and buses headed to and from Kathmandu on the hairpins.&nbsp; As a child, Maila Kaji was fascinated by cars and wished one day to be able to drive one. After he failed Grade 8, he came to Kathmandu in 1975 and got a Rs20/month job at a petrol station in Maiti Devi. “I watched King Birendra’s coronation and was impressed by the glamour of Kathmandu, and decided to stay here,” Maila Kaji says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041816040_a1a41e47dec8500727702f700e43af625f059043cbcd283f13b247344b3a20aa.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026041816040_a1a41e47dec8500727702f700e43af625f059043cbcd283f13b247344b3a20aa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1974" height="1608" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> <figcaption>Maila Kaji</figcaption> </figure>  Former minister Ramesh Nath Pandey used to bring his Volkswagen Beetle to the station, and Maila Kaji started taking care of his car. Later, he drove a Russian Jeep for former minister and geographer Harka Gurung. Along the way, he fell in love with the daughter of a Brahmin colleague, and married her. “My father back in Tistung did not approve of our inter-ethnic marriage, and not speak to me for five years,” Maila Kaji recalls. Manjil Lama grew up in Kathmandu, and did well in science in school. He had wanted to go the US to become a pilot like his friends, but was denied a visa.&nbsp; “The visa officer told him I did not earn enough,” says Maila Kaji, “so I sold some property and sent Manjil to flying school in the Philippines.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041816040_e9091162840baa6d182de2d7cc6f09e43ec9cfd9a9b6e71e7e7b14bc72da3537.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026041816040_e9091162840baa6d182de2d7cc6f09e43ec9cfd9a9b6e71e7e7b14bc72da3537" data-rendition-name="original" width="1434" height="1754" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> <figcaption>Manjil Lama</figcaption> </figure>  After returning to Nepal, Manjil Lama now flies Let 410s of Summit Air to difficult air strips like Lukla and Simkot, and has logged over 2,000 hours. He has to go to the Czech Republic regularly for simulator training. Says Maila Kaji Lama: “My father worked hard carrying cars to raise us, I started from scratch to become a driver to support my family, and my son is now a pilot with experience in flying in the world’s toughest terrain.” &nbsp; Watch <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lvT3iTi8yw4" target="_blank">video clip from S Dillon Ripley here</a>.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260419020448_40f8b1bdaace08106ca5c24819b6e7a34fb2109a9a3ec5c6ac179b3309e686ed.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260419020448_40f8b1bdaace08106ca5c24819b6e7a34fb2109a9a3ec5c6ac179b3309e686ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="900" height="1582" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> </figure>

Grandfather carried cars, son drives cars, grandson flies planes

Only 70 years ago, Kathmandu was the isolated capital of a country that had no modern surface transport link with the rest of the world.&nbsp; The idea of building a road to connect Nepal with India actually first came up during the last years of the Rana regime, after the British had left India. Construction actually began in 1952, and the serpentine route took five years to complete.&nbsp; Named Tribhuvan Rajpath, after the reigning king who initiated it, the alignment was from Thankot (1,301 m) at the western edge of the Kathmandu Valley to Nagdunga, Naubise, Tistung, Palung, Daman, Sim Bhanjyang (2,504m), Lamidanda, and Bhainse.&nbsp; At Bhainse, the highway joined the existing road to Bhimphedi and it was another 31km to Hetauda and Amlekhganj. There was a railway line between Amlekhganj and Birganj.&nbsp; After regular bus and truck service from Raxaul to Kathmandu began in 1961, the entire road popularly became known as the Tribhuvan Rajpath.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_a11b48a75c7877a0f68634f8be07d26a3f354e78ebd9adddc7d17252fddf1d1b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026041610044_a11b48a75c7877a0f68634f8be07d26a3f354e78ebd9adddc7d17252fddf1d1b" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="3072" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>The village of Chitlang on the main route to Kathmandu before the Rajpath was built. In the distance is the Chandragiri ridge above Thankot. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  <h2>Chronology&nbsp;</h2> (Based on US State Department cables and media reports) November 1945: Gen Bahadur SJB Rana asked an American official if a road could be constructed from the Indian border to Kathmandu. Nepal wanted such a road built across the mountains after first constructing an East-West artery road in the Tarai, and the government was interested in purchasing US surplus war equipment. Gen Rana inquired if there were US firms who could conduct a survey. April 1947: The Nepal government told a US official it was important to upgrade the 20-mile trail from Bhimphedi over the mountains to the Kathmandu Valley into an all-weather road and sought an estimate from the US for doing so. May 1948: Bijaya SJB Rana informed a US official that a survey for a one-lane motor road between Kathmandu and the Tarai had been completed. The road was to follow the Bagmati River to Makwanpur, then connect at Bhimphedi with the road to Amlekhgunj. The road from Tripureswor to Bhainse along the Bagmati River and via Bhimphedi would have been about 60km. (The distance from Kathmandu on the Tribhuvan Rajpath is 122 km.)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_bb531baf5d73e00d2032814ac8abb86979a87d781abc066fcb984997aad930e6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026041610044_bb531baf5d73e00d2032814ac8abb86979a87d781abc066fcb984997aad930e6" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="3072" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>The road climbing the hills toward its destination of Kathmandu. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  July 1948: The government decided to go ahead and build a motorable road from Amlekhganj to Thankot and complete it in two years. December 1948: Construction of the motor road from Kathmandu to Amlekhgunj via the Bagmati River corridor was started. April 1949: Gen Singha SJB Rana told a US official that the motor road from Kathmandu to the Tarai and the Indo-Nepal border would be completed by the spring of 1950. February 1950: Nepal sanctioned Rs300,000 to make the 6-foot-wide road from Kathmandu along the Bagmati River to Hetauda. Of this, Rs100,000 was allocated for road-building material and machinery. Subsequently, the road would be developed into a broader motorable road at a cost of Rs7.5 million. February 1952: Nepal’s budget speech noted that a plan was underway for a road between Bhainse and Kathmandu. PM Matrika Prasad Koirala laid a foundation stone near Teku for construction of the ‘Kathmandu Hetauda Roadway’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_e66d3b81848ec19da48be8b41cacfa8b8e2bad093719b39eda27755c9616ea9a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026041610044_e66d3b81848ec19da48be8b41cacfa8b8e2bad093719b39eda27755c9616ea9a" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="3072" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Rajpath winding its way north of Bhainse. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  February 1952: A party of Indian engineers came to Nepal to determine the best route for a road from Raxaul to Kathmandu. March 1952: Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru told Parliament: “So far as India’s security is concerned, we consider the Himalayan mountains as our border.” Ministry of External Affairs official (S.N. Hakar) told a US official that the Indian government was willing to proceed with constructing the Raxaul-Kathmandu road and had sent a survey party to determine the most suitable mountain route. May 1952: Swiss experts had made surveys for a proposed new road between Bhimphedi and Thankot. Nepal government requested financial help to build the road, and India was considering the project.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_35e390c1a4812f45af7892d681230e04c63727d9006b6614ed79aaa7c22c1ece.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026041610044_35e390c1a4812f45af7892d681230e04c63727d9006b6614ed79aaa7c22c1ece" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="3072" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>With a constant stream of trucks, buses and jeeps, the narrow Rajpath once was Nepal's busiest highway. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  Summer 1952: Work on a new road was at a standstill, so Nepal asked India for assistance. Indian engineers surveyed two routes: one following the Bagmati River, the other road through Daman that was later adopted. July 1952: Nepal’s Ministry of Planning decided to construct a road between Kathmandu and Raxaul, awaiting Cabinet approval soon. Prime Minister Matrika Koirala said the proposed road was longer than necessary, but it was a better route ‘for strategic reasons’, because it did not require many bridges. August 1952: King Tribhuvan said road construction from Kathmandu to Bhimphedi would “begin soon”. September 1952: An Indian Military Team began construction of the Kathmandu-Bhainse road without a formal agreement being signed with the Nepal government.&nbsp; February 1953: The Indian Ambassador said the road would be hard surfaced within a year. September 1953: Prime Minister Matrika Koirala inspected the completion of a ‘jeepable track’. December 1953: The road was named ‘Tribhuvan Rajpath’. April 1954: Reports circulated that Swiss engineers criticised the alignment, arguing it would have been easier, faster, and cheaper to build over the existing foot trail between Bhimphedi and Thankot through Kulekhani. July 1954: Heavy monsoon rain damaged much of the roadway that had been built.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_b5b2a1833f1366e532f1629f47c124d877df7b6f8a34b6c83f6c21ec3e4415dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2026041610044_b5b2a1833f1366e532f1629f47c124d877df7b6f8a34b6c83f6c21ec3e4415dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="855" height="1123" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Crown Prince Mahendra inspecting construction progress on the Tribhuvan Rajpath in October 1954. Photo: ROYAL PALACE</figcaption> </figure>  November 1954: The Indian ambassador said flood damage was so great that the road would be delayed by two years. May 1955: Twenty military trucks brought rice from Amlekhganj to Kathmandu on the Tribhuvan Rajpath. King Tribhuvan died in Zurich. December 1956: A gravel road was completed, with trucks and buses plying between Amlekhganj and Kathmandu. December 1956: Nepal government abolished regulations that required Nepali nationals to carry permits for travel within Nepal, except for women below the age of 45. 1957: Reduction in price of goods carried to Kathmandu by truck: Sugar, Rs0.13 per kg. Wheat flour Rs0.13 per kg. Kerosene Rs0.25 per litre. February 1957: An article in The Motherland newspaper in Kathmandu noted urgent action was needed to avoid Kathmandu being cut off from the Tarai during the monsoon. The correspondent wrote, ‘In a recent journey from Amlekhganj I found that almost all the bridges are in a very bad state…Now, because of the dry rivers the scores of vehicles that ply the road cross the rivers on the water level. But during monsoons… these rivers will be impossible to cross without bridges. On the road itself, landslides and big holes have made the journey a great undertaking.” April 1957: The first regular passenger bus left Amlekhganj at 12:30PM and arrived in Kathmandu completing a journey of 14 hours.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_60807e067f2d0b80bdc5e59860e9bc240b495ef606efc9301ef54ea5731d42df.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2026041610044_60807e067f2d0b80bdc5e59860e9bc240b495ef606efc9301ef54ea5731d42df" data-rendition-name="original" width="5211" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Daman, one of the highest points on the Rajpath, often saw snow in winter. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_baac4747267c751ab7b0e5ef24697fb5001c4c55e04a82d92c89282bd01a325c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2026041610044_baac4747267c751ab7b0e5ef24697fb5001c4c55e04a82d92c89282bd01a325c" data-rendition-name="original" width="648" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Travelers could view the Himalayas from a view tower at Daman. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  June 1957: Eight thousand Nepali workers and about 500 Indian Army personnel were at work on the road.&nbsp; 30 June 1957: India officially handed the road over to Nepal. India had spent INR32.5 million on the project.&nbsp; January 1958: The road from Amlekhganj to Bhainse was upgraded. July 1961: The gravel road from Raxaul to Birganj was blacktopped. Trucks began transporting goods from Raxaul directly to Kathmandu, avoiding the need for transshipment from train to truck in Amlekhganj, or use the ropeway from Bhimphedi. 1961: Passengers could travel from Raxaul to Kathmandu in a day, whereas it took a week by train to Amlekhganj, bus to Bhimphedi and then on foot. September 1962: Nepal’s 3-Year Plan aimed at broadening and black-topping the road between Bhainse and Raxaul, bypassing the Chure tunnel, and constructing several bridges along the route. 1963: Travelers going to Kathmandu by land: Road, 158,000, Nepal Government Railway, 66,500. Railway passenger service ended in June 1965.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_2a95eb144dad74271a0fa3a27fab6b45bbab0a1c4be59d21120ad14c08e258fd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2026041610044_2a95eb144dad74271a0fa3a27fab6b45bbab0a1c4be59d21120ad14c08e258fd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1344" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>A bus providing ‘deluxe service’ in 1963 is ready to leave Amlekhganj for Kathmandu. Note the railway tracks of the Nepal Government Railway. Photo: RON ELLIOTT</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_d02013692e84d6add7a6e0ce66c2b552cd53bb084db2aa8df0593bbcf84c2c04.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2026041610044_d02013692e84d6add7a6e0ce66c2b552cd53bb084db2aa8df0593bbcf84c2c04" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1352" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Vehicles found it difficult to pass on many parts of the Rajpath in 1963. Photo: RON ELLIOTT</figcaption> </figure>  1965: Tribhuvan Highway was considered a useful addition to Nepal’s economic infrastructure, but it could not act as a prime mover in the nation’s economic development. It did play a major role in the 1960s in transporting material and equipment needed to implement development projects in the Kathmandu Valley. September 1966: Nepal took over maintenance of the Tribhuvan Rajpath from the Indian Aid Mission.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_5488ba1e92f6395ff882392ccbaef2270622632682eccb412d8de7b128f6f397.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2026041610044_5488ba1e92f6395ff882392ccbaef2270622632682eccb412d8de7b128f6f397" data-rendition-name="original" width="1764" height="1184" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Trees still lined the Rajpath near Thankot in 1967. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  1971: A UN-Nepal study said the best alignment for an alternative road was from Kathmandu, Pharping, Kulekhani, Bhimphedi to Bhainse. 1975: Nepal's Department of Roads’ engineer concluded: ‘The Tribhuvan Rajpath has been built without design speed consideration… The pavement was not constructed to any designed standard… irrespective of quality of material, and later the road was black topped without consideration of traffic intensity and load-bearing capacity of sub-base… utilisation of low-quality material in the Bhainse-Thankot section… Quality control was neither maintained in Bhainse-Thankot nor the Bhainse-Raxaul section. Local materials were used irrespective of their quality to complete the work in the earliest possible time and in the cheapest possible manner. Brick work was done in negligible quantity. Cement used was ordinary portland cement…’ &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_26c74f45991efb3dc29d616e8acafb3163661ae6573c5314538e59c54d5ca0a5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2026041610044_26c74f45991efb3dc29d616e8acafb3163661ae6573c5314538e59c54d5ca0a5" data-rendition-name="original" width="2368" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Bhainse in 2017. The road divided here, one going to Bhimphedi on the right, the main road proceeding to Kathmandu on the left. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260416100416_4d9321abf4d912796842fe963a493501e1aceff462300ecdd9bd5e0b8ba7f294.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20260416100416_4d9321abf4d912796842fe963a493501e1aceff462300ecdd9bd5e0b8ba7f294" data-rendition-name="original" width="649" height="1667" loading="lazy" alt="Highway info NT"> </figure>  Even 70 years after it was built, there is still speculation about India's security concerns vis-a-vis China, and how Indian Army engineers purposely made the road longer than it needed to be over the 2,500 Sim Bhanjyang pass instead of following the river route.&nbsp; There is also some evidence that although the Rana regime had first requested the US for help with the highway, Nehru did not want the Americans involved in Nepal. Which is why the Tribhuvan Highway became an Indian military project.&nbsp; There was similar concern from India about the Kodari Highway linking Kathmandu to China, and King Mahednra is famously supposed to have said: "Communism will not come here in a taxi."&nbsp; Geopolitics still affects Nepal's strategic highways. After decades, links to China are still rough and often blocked. Kathmandu-Tarai Fast Track is delayed by years, and not expected to be completed during this decade. Trucks and buses still bypass the Tribuvan Highway with a 200km detour via Mugling because the other alternative routes like the Tika Bhairav or Chhaimale routes are not suitable for heavy vehicles.&nbsp; The shortcut through Chitlang that the Swiss proposed in the 1950s is still too difficult. And a 25km section of the Japanese-built BP Highway to the eastern Tarai has been knocked out by the 202 flood. Dan Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal. This is the fourth instalment in a new limited series in Nepali Times on the historic transportation infrastructures of Nepal.

The long and winding road to India

Home Minister Sudan Gurung resigned on Wednesday following increasing coverage of and criticism over his investment in companies linked to controversial Nepali business figures Sulav Agrawal and Deepak Bhatta, who are currently under investigation for money laundering.
‘I am resigning from the position of Home Minister effective today to ensure impartial investigation into matters associated with me, and to make sure that there is no conflict of interest,’ Gurung wrote, saying that morality and public trust mattered more to him than office.
Gurung ended his message to the nation in English as he invoked the security forces, writing: &nbsp;‘For my country and For the respect of our security forces and For the youths of Nepal.’
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Gurung has become the second member to depart the Cabinet, serving for less than a month, despite the Nepali electorate’s hopes that Nepal would finally get a stable government after the RSP’s sweeping victory in the March elections.&nbsp;
Prime Minister Balendra Shah had sought clarification from Gurung on Wednesday after new details emerged about his shares in two micro-insurance companies, Star Micro Insurance and Liberty Micro Life, which are said to have been issued their licence by the Nepal Insurance Authority at the behest of Bhatta and Agrawal.
Gurung denied financial misconduct, saying that his investment in the two companies was included in his asset disclosure and insisting the misunderstanding is because of how the shares have been categorised.&nbsp;
Leaders within the RSP had called for an internal investigation into Gurung as they sought to maintain the party’s platform of clean governance and transparency. As such, Gurung’s position had become increasingly untenable, especially since former Labour Minister was sacked without being given an opportunity for clarification over a disciplinary breach involving his wife’s appointment to the Health Insurance Board.&nbsp;
On social media, Sah on Tuesday seemed to express dissatisfaction over the PM’s request for Gurung’s clarification.&nbsp;
Judging by the comments under Gurung’s resignation post, a significant part of the Nepali public seems to be firmly on Gurung’s side, blaming the mass media and what they call mouthpieces of old parties for driving him out of the Cabinet.&nbsp;
This is a reflection of his meteoric rise and the continued support he has maintained since he stepped into the spotlight as the leader of Nepal’s youth movement in the aftermath of the September protest.&nbsp;
Gurung has made headlines constantly ever since he burst onto the national stage, which includes questions over the degree of his and his organisation Hami Nepal’s involvement in the September 9 unrest, calls to divulge details behind Hami Nepal’s finances, and not paying five years of rent for an illegal lakefront property in Pokhara.&nbsp;
There have also been unsubstantiated claims, despite Gurung’s denial, about his ‘ties’ to the Free Tibet movement, which has made the Chinese— as well as Nepalis— wary.&nbsp;
As Home Minister, Gurung cultivated an image of a tough but approachabe leader, overseeing a series of high-profile arrests of previous political leadership and business figures even as he posted photos of sleeping in a sofa in his office, and engaged with the public on the streets and on social media.&nbsp;
As it stands, the Home Ministry was a bone of contention between Shah and RSP Chair Rabi Lamichhane before it was awarded to Gurung, who is a close ally of PM Shah. Analysts had noted that with Gurung in charge, the Home Ministry would be a hook for Shah if Lamichhane, with his share of controversies, stepped out of line.&nbsp;
Following Gurung’s resignation, the Prime Minister’s secretariat has said that the PM would take charge of the portfolio for the time being. But it will be interesting to see if and how fresh negotiations for the Ministry unfold within RSP.&nbsp;
And with his supporter base largely intact, it remains to be seen how much of an impact this setback will have on Sudan Gurung’s political aspirations.&nbsp;

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