<figure><img width="1400" height="897" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be8019c7e80680e087834jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>GRU in Brunei in the early 1990s, with Ram Kangdangwa, sitting third from right.</figcaption></figure>It was evening in September 1996, and some of us Gurkha soldiers who were fed up with the way we were being treated by our British and Brunei officers were holding a meeting inside the military base to discuss the form of protest to press our case.With me were Puranjan Rai, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15993#.X9d66dgzaM8">Gajendra Isbo</a> and Naren Rai. Our grievances were that we were not getting proper pay, pension, not allowed free meals, as well as being insulted and mistreated. It had got out of hand.We also felt that Gurkha recruitment for the Brunei security forces should not be conducted by the British Army, but be governed by a separate treaty between Nepal and Brunei.Our meeting formed a governing committee as well as sub-committees, and more than 2,400 out of the total 2,500 Gurkha force strength in Brunei signed up in support of the movement.We held talks with the hierarchy, and had started boycotting some of the senior officers. One of our demands was that the 16-year-old Gurkha Reserve Unit (GRU) be disbanded and revert to a security guard force. We submitted a written memorandum, but it was ignored. This dragged on for months.  Then, suddenly one middle of the night, all GRU weapons were returned to the Brunei government, and our unit went back to being a security guard force. However, other demands of salary increment, end of mistreatment by arrogant officers were yet to be addressed. Notwithstanding, the officers had learnt an important lesson that Nepalis will not tolerate injustice and oppression.The situation was again on the boil, and pressure was building up. It was obvious that the brass would come down heavily on what it considered a mutiny and insubordination in order to instill military discipline. <figure><img width="965" height="650" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be8049c7e80680e087835jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>One evening, I gave a short speech at our meeting, saying that the situation was nearing a make-or-break point, the higher-ups were about to take stern action, and talked about what steps the team should take in case some of us were dismissed and sent back to Nepal.Three days later, I had a premonition of disaster. Sure enough, 11 of us considered to be instigators were secretly dismissed, and without the rest of the unit having any inkling we were dispatched to the airport for a flight back to Nepal.We were waiting to board at Bandar Seri Begawan airport, and did not know that back at camp word had spread about our dismissal and deportation. The Nepali soldiers then surrounded the headquarters building to protest and demanded that their leaders be returned, and failing that, to dismiss them too. HQ brought out the riot police to contain the escalating situation and vandalism.A few hours later, the Permanent Secretary of Brunei (the King's brother-in-law) rushed to the airport to find out from us what had happened. He asked me questions, and after hearing us out, wanted to know if I could convince the Nepalis back at camp to go back to their dormitories and end the protest.I replied that I would do it if our employment was restored, and I was allowed to deliver a short speech to our people at the base. The Permanent Secretary agreed and drove me, along with two fellow Nepalis, to the camp in his Mercedes BenzThe Gurkhas were still protesting and shouting slogans when we reached camp. I got up and in a two minute speech told them they should now return to their quarters in a disciplined manner because the senior most official of the Brunei government had promised to address our longstanding grievances. I assured them that if we were betrayed, we would once more gather to protest and raise slogans. <figure><img width="1640" height="1158" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be8069c7e80680e087836jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>After I spoke, there was pin-drop silence and the Nepali troops all dispersed. The discipline and obedience of the Gurkhas seems to have surprised the Permanent Secretary who then went to confer with GRU officers. He then asked us to assemble in the gym hall.He began by informing us that he had just fired Col F D Scotson, the British officer in charge of the GRU who was our principle nemesis. Now that Scotson was gone, and the GRU had reverted back to security guard status, the Permanent Secretary assured us that all our other demands like salary and pension would be resolved.We then collectively took the decision to suspend our agitation, and keep a low profile. Things went back to normal for a few months, but then some Gurkhas challenged the authorities again regarding their promotions. This time, the brass decided that this new rebellion needed to be nipped in the bud, and dismissed the 11 leaders from service. We decided to accept the decision because so many Nepali jobs were on the line if the Brunei unit was disbanded.In the next 15 months, the GRU became the Gurkha Security Guard. A rare near-mutiny  resulted in a successful resolution of our just demands. This was possible because we were united, well educated, patriotic, courageous, and willing to take the risk for the sake of justice and our beliefs. By insisting on a bilateral treaty, we had also acted to stand up to the principle of Nepal’s sovereignty.We finally returned to Nepal with our heads held high on 14 December 1997. It has been  23 years since our run-in in Brunei, and the events are still fresh in our minds. The Brunei Security Guard is still functioning, but the British Army’s involvement in recruiting Nepali servicemen to the unit still continues and there is still no Brunei-Nepal treaty.  <figure><img width="1624" height="1144" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be8099c7e80680e087837jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The Brunei force was set up in 1974 with 27 former Gurkhas of the British Army and Gurkha Contingent, Singapore (Nepalis serve as policemen in Singapore). It was originally called Gurkha Security Guard but in 1981, the British and Brunei government decided to form the GRU, and had former British Gurkha soldiers serving in the new unit had to work as regular soldiers. Ever since it was converted into GRU, the Brunei government kept augmenting its strength. By 1996, the GRU’s numbers crossed 2,500 -- as big as a brigade strength in the British Army. I was a British Gurkha soldier, and joined the GRU in May 1996 even though I had signed the contract paperwork as ‘security guard’. When we got there, we were forced to work as infantry soldiers.Most ex-British Gurkha soldiers serving in the GRU were above 45, and the situation was pathetic. Us over-the-hill Gurkhas were compelled to run Battle Fitness Test (BFT) and Combat Fitness Test (CFT), fire heavy weapons and often had to participate in weeks-long exercises in the dense tropical jungles of Borneo.  Despite being fit, some ex-Gurkhas died of exhaustion during physically demanding jungle exercises. Their salaries had remained stagnant for many lustrums. The other big transgression was that the British government used to charge 2,500 Brunei dollars (USD 1,870) per Gurkha soldier as monthly salary from Brunei, but but gave us only BND1,100.  Essentially, Britain has been trading in Gurkhas for the last 205 years, ever since the Rana oligarchy in Nepal used us as its main tool of diplomacy. As scholar May Des Chene writes: ‘Gurkhas have been sold and bartered and they have been the coin of international diplomacy at key moments in Nepalese history.’The ‘Gurkha Contingent’ in Singapore has 2,000 young Nepali soldiers serving as policeman. The Singapore contingent itself was formed in 1949 after the end of the Pacific War, and after 71 years there is still no bilateral treaty between Singapore and Nepal governing recruitment.It is the British Army that recruits Nepalis on behalf of the Singaporeans. The question is: Who authorised this arrangement? Why is it still going on? Scores of so-called democratic governments have come and gone in Nepal, and no one has shown much concern about this affront to the country’s sovereignty.The Gurkhas in Singapore were kept in British Army enclaves until the late 1990s. Many of them are married, but some 1,500 of these young, educated and dynamic Nepali women are confined to the base and not allowed to work in Singapore. <figure><img width="2048" height="1536" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be80c9c7e80680e087838jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Over the years, there were more than 15 retired Gurkha majors and about 50 retired captains serving in the GRU. But their status was lower than that of second lieutenants. However, they had handsome salaries, perks and facilities compared to the other ranks. Most Nepali officer regarded them as sycophants, as many of them used to kowtow to British and Bruneian officers.   Des Chene writes: ‘The soldiers look upon them with mistrust and regard them as moles who misrepresent their views to the British officers in order to curry their favours in the forms of promotions, good postings, longer services, granting of honorary ranks which carry some monetary benefits on their retirement, etc.’ There was a lot of arbitrary discipline enforced, most soldiers who had been in the British Army found the rules confusing and the officers did not have the same discipline and respect of the rank and file. When the British were in India, and after the 1816 treaty they did not actually have to colonise Nepal, and never really recognised Nepal as a sovereign independent country until the Chandra Shumshere Rana’s Friendship Treaty of 1923. But at the heart of the Gurkha dilemma is the anomaly that even today, nationals of one country fight and die for another. It is absurd that the United Kingdom, a sovereign country, recruits soldiers from another sovereign, independent country (Nepal) to serve in still another sovereign independent country, Brunei.  Despite this, elected leaders of Nepal and its intellectuals and historians, forever gloat about Nepal's independence and sovereignty, and that the country was never colonised. Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15993#.X9d66dgzaM8">The resistance</a> by Sita Mademba in Dharan <img width="150" height="171" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be80f9c7e80680e087839jpeg.jpg" alt="">Ra<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15993#.X9d66dgzaM8">m Kandangwa</a> is a former soldier in the British Army Brigade of the Gurkhas and served in the GRU in Brunei, where he led a rebellion against his commanding officers in 1996, and returned to Nepal on 15 December of 1997. He has a PhD in Nepal-Britain relations.

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A forgotten Gurkha rebellion

<figure><img width="1400" height="897" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191116/636beefd4b0ad905ca02ef7djpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>GRU in Brunei in the early 1990s, with Ram Kangdangwa, sitting third from right.</figcaption></figure>It was evening in September 1996, and some of us Gurkha soldiers who were fed up with the way we were being treated by our British and Brunei officers were holding a meeting inside the military base to discuss the form of protest to press our case.With me were Puranjan Rai, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15993#.X9d66dgzaM8">Gajendra Isbo</a> and Naren Rai. Our grievances were that we were not getting proper pay, pension, not allowed free meals, as well as being insulted and mistreated. It had got out of hand.We also felt that Gurkha recruitment for the Brunei security forces should not be conducted by the British Army, but be governed by a separate treaty between Nepal and Brunei.Our meeting formed a governing committee as well as sub-committees, and more than 2,400 out of the total 2,500 Gurkha force strength in Brunei signed up in support of the movement.We held talks with the hierarchy, and had started boycotting some of the senior officers. One of our demands was that the 16-year-old Gurkha Reserve Unit (GRU) be disbanded and revert to a security guard force. We submitted a written memorandum, but it was ignored. This dragged on for months.  Then, suddenly one middle of the night, all GRU weapons were returned to the Brunei government, and our unit went back to being a security guard force. However, other demands of salary increment, end of mistreatment by arrogant officers were yet to be addressed. Notwithstanding, the officers had learnt an important lesson that Nepalis will not tolerate injustice and oppression.The situation was again on the boil, and pressure was building up. It was obvious that the brass would come down heavily on what it considered a mutiny and insubordination in order to instill military discipline. <figure><img width="965" height="650" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191116/636bef004b0ad905ca02ef7ejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>One evening, I gave a short speech at our meeting, saying that the situation was nearing a make-or-break point, the higher-ups were about to take stern action, and talked about what steps the team should take in case some of us were dismissed and sent back to Nepal.Three days later, I had a premonition of disaster. Sure enough, 11 of us considered to be instigators were secretly dismissed, and without the rest of the unit having any inkling we were dispatched to the airport for a flight back to Nepal.We were waiting to board at Bandar Seri Begawan airport, and did not know that back at camp word had spread about our dismissal and deportation. The Nepali soldiers then surrounded the headquarters building to protest and demanded that their leaders be returned, and failing that, to dismiss them too. HQ brought out the riot police to contain the escalating situation and vandalism.A few hours later, the Permanent Secretary of Brunei (the King's brother-in-law) rushed to the airport to find out from us what had happened. He asked me questions, and after hearing us out, wanted to know if I could convince the Nepalis back at camp to go back to their dormitories and end the protest.I replied that I would do it if our employment was restored, and I was allowed to deliver a short speech to our people at the base. The Permanent Secretary agreed and drove me, along with two fellow Nepalis, to the camp in his Mercedes BenzThe Gurkhas were still protesting and shouting slogans when we reached camp. I got up and in a two minute speech told them they should now return to their quarters in a disciplined manner because the senior most official of the Brunei government had promised to address our longstanding grievances. I assured them that if we were betrayed, we would once more gather to protest and raise slogans. <figure><img width="1640" height="1158" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191116/636bef034b0ad905ca02ef7fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>After I spoke, there was pin-drop silence and the Nepali troops all dispersed. The discipline and obedience of the Gurkhas seems to have surprised the Permanent Secretary who then went to confer with GRU officers. He then asked us to assemble in the gym hall.He began by informing us that he had just fired Col F D Scotson, the British officer in charge of the GRU who was our principle nemesis. Now that Scotson was gone, and the GRU had reverted back to security guard status, the Permanent Secretary assured us that all our other demands like salary and pension would be resolved.We then collectively took the decision to suspend our agitation, and keep a low profile. Things went back to normal for a few months, but then some Gurkhas challenged the authorities again regarding their promotions. This time, the brass decided that this new rebellion needed to be nipped in the bud, and dismissed the 11 leaders from service. We decided to accept the decision because so many Nepali jobs were on the line if the Brunei unit was disbanded.In the next 15 months, the GRU became the Gurkha Security Guard. A rare near-mutiny  resulted in a successful resolution of our just demands. This was possible because we were united, well educated, patriotic, courageous, and willing to take the risk for the sake of justice and our beliefs. By insisting on a bilateral treaty, we had also acted to stand up to the principle of Nepal’s sovereignty.We finally returned to Nepal with our heads held high on 14 December 1997. It has been  23 years since our run-in in Brunei, and the events are still fresh in our minds. The Brunei Security Guard is still functioning, but the British Army’s involvement in recruiting Nepali servicemen to the unit still continues and there is still no Brunei-Nepal treaty.  <figure><img width="1624" height="1144" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191116/636bef064b0ad905ca02ef80jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The Brunei force was set up in 1974 with 27 former Gurkhas of the British Army and Gurkha Contingent, Singapore (Nepalis serve as policemen in Singapore). It was originally called Gurkha Security Guard but in 1981, the British and Brunei government decided to form the GRU, and had former British Gurkha soldiers serving in the new unit had to work as regular soldiers. Ever since it was converted into GRU, the Brunei government kept augmenting its strength. By 1996, the GRU’s numbers crossed 2,500 -- as big as a brigade strength in the British Army. I was a British Gurkha soldier, and joined the GRU in May 1996 even though I had signed the contract paperwork as ‘security guard’. When we got there, we were forced to work as infantry soldiers.Most ex-British Gurkha soldiers serving in the GRU were above 45, and the situation was pathetic. Us over-the-hill Gurkhas were compelled to run Battle Fitness Test (BFT) and Combat Fitness Test (CFT), fire heavy weapons and often had to participate in weeks-long exercises in the dense tropical jungles of Borneo.  Despite being fit, some ex-Gurkhas died of exhaustion during physically demanding jungle exercises. Their salaries had remained stagnant for many lustrums. The other big transgression was that the British government used to charge 2,500 Brunei dollars (USD 1,870) per Gurkha soldier as monthly salary from Brunei, but but gave us only BND1,100.  Essentially, Britain has been trading in Gurkhas for the last 205 years, ever since the Rana oligarchy in Nepal used us as its main tool of diplomacy. As scholar May Des Chene writes: ‘Gurkhas have been sold and bartered and they have been the coin of international diplomacy at key moments in Nepalese history.’The ‘Gurkha Contingent’ in Singapore has 2,000 young Nepali soldiers serving as policeman. The Singapore contingent itself was formed in 1949 after the end of the Pacific War, and after 71 years there is still no bilateral treaty between Singapore and Nepal governing recruitment.It is the British Army that recruits Nepalis on behalf of the Singaporeans. The question is: Who authorised this arrangement? Why is it still going on? Scores of so-called democratic governments have come and gone in Nepal, and no one has shown much concern about this affront to the country’s sovereignty.The Gurkhas in Singapore were kept in British Army enclaves until the late 1990s. Many of them are married, but some 1,500 of these young, educated and dynamic Nepali women are confined to the base and not allowed to work in Singapore. <figure><img width="2048" height="1536" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191116/636bef094b0ad905ca02ef81jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Over the years, there were more than 15 retired Gurkha majors and about 50 retired captains serving in the GRU. But their status was lower than that of second lieutenants. However, they had handsome salaries, perks and facilities compared to the other ranks. Most Nepali officer regarded them as sycophants, as many of them used to kowtow to British and Bruneian officers.   Des Chene writes: ‘The soldiers look upon them with mistrust and regard them as moles who misrepresent their views to the British officers in order to curry their favours in the forms of promotions, good postings, longer services, granting of honorary ranks which carry some monetary benefits on their retirement, etc.’ There was a lot of arbitrary discipline enforced, most soldiers who had been in the British Army found the rules confusing and the officers did not have the same discipline and respect of the rank and file. When the British were in India, and after the 1816 treaty they did not actually have to colonise Nepal, and never really recognised Nepal as a sovereign independent country until the Chandra Shumshere Rana’s Friendship Treaty of 1923. But at the heart of the Gurkha dilemma is the anomaly that even today, nationals of one country fight and die for another. It is absurd that the United Kingdom, a sovereign country, recruits soldiers from another sovereign, independent country (Nepal) to serve in still another sovereign independent country, Brunei.  Despite this, elected leaders of Nepal and its intellectuals and historians, forever gloat about Nepal's independence and sovereignty, and that the country was never colonised. Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15993#.X9d66dgzaM8">The resistance</a> by Sita Mademba in Dharan <img width="150" height="171" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191116/636bef0c4b0ad905ca02ef82jpeg.jpg" alt="">Ra<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15993#.X9d66dgzaM8">m Kandangwa</a> is a former soldier in the British Army Brigade of the Gurkhas and served in the GRU in Brunei, where he led a rebellion against his commanding officers in 1996, and returned to Nepal on 15 December of 1997. He has a PhD in Nepal-Britain relations.

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171132/636933909c7e80680e03dfa6jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1556" height="1092"/><figcaption>Nepali soldiers and porters assemble in Tundikhel in 1915 before marching down to India to join the Allied forces in Europe, Turkey and West Asia. Of the 200,000 people conscripted, about 20,000 were killed.</figcaption></figure>The centennial of the Armistice this week is an occasion to gauge the scale and significance of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/100-years-of-platitudes,1025">Nepal’s involvement in World War I</a>. Politically, it cemented the long-standing subordinate semi-colonial relationship that locked Nepal into British Imperialism, but it also consolidated <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/Double-centennial,1011">Nepal’s formal independence</a> and the legitimacy of the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Singha-Durbar-Rise-Regime-Nepal/dp/8129145618">Rana regime</a>.It led directly to the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/the-rana-reign-a-recap-of-history,3751">Anglo-Nepal Treaty of 1923</a> in which the very first article read: ‘The two Governments agree mutually to acknowledge and respect each other’s independence, both internal and external’. There was the additional benefit for <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5358">Prime Minister Chandra Shumshere Rana</a> of an annual payment by the British of a million rupees.The War also served to underline the divisions of class, caste and ethnicity within Nepali society because the majority of soldiers who went to fight were not only from specific regions but from <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/More-warlike,1023">particular ethnic groups</a> and rarely from the dominant castes or ruling classes. It also contributed to the distinctive political ideology of Nepali nationalism as a bir (brave) nation. For, as historian Pratyoush Onta has noted, the Kathmandu ruling class legitimised ‘the soldier’s pain in the battlefield … as part of one’s necessarily sacred duty to the Nepali nation’. That pain (<a href="http://himalaya.socanth.cam.ac.uk/collections/journals/himal/pdf/Himal_7_6.pdf">dukha</a>) was very real.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/they-shall-now-grow-old/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">They shall not grow old</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171132/636933929c7e80680e03dfa7jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1202" height="1120"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Militarily, Nepal made a real contribution with the deployment of soldiers in support of the Allies, not only of the Gurkha regiments of the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2016/03/22/the-sharp-edge-of-history/">British Indian Army</a> on the Western Front, in North Africa and in the Middle East, but also of Nepal Army forces in India to relieve British troops while the Indian Army was serving overseas and helped in campaigns, including in Waziristan on the North West Frontier, to maintain British control across the subcontinent.Historians say more than 200,000 Gurkha recruits were put at the disposal of the Indian Army, which represented a quarter of the total male population of the ethnic groups involved. These Nepali troops were deployed as part of the Indian Army in many of the most difficult of operations and at the forefront of the battle and, as a result, suffered disproportionally high casualties.Whether freezing in the cold and rainy weather in the trenches on the Western Front, or in the hot dry conditions of North Africa and West Asia, the Gurkhas, Sikhs and other regiments of the Indian Army suffered not only from enemy fire and bombardment but also from sickness, cold, heat and neglect.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171132/636933959c7e80680e03dfa8jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1284" height="872"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>There are first-hand accounts of the disastrous <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/gurkhas-versus-turks-gallipoli-campaign,2192">Gallipoli campaign</a> and of the various battles in Palestine and Mesopotamia, and particularly of the defeat of British and Indian forces at Kut, and the long march afterwards to concentration camps in central Anatolia, where the Ottoman Turks fighting on the German side incarcerated thousands, including Gurkhas.The Gurkha regiments officially suffered over 20,000 casualties, and together with the influenza epidemic of 1917 led to the apparent decline in the population of Nepal between 1911-1920 from 5.6 million to 5.5 million. Even though  10% of the recruits were casualties, there has been no detailed study of the social impact at the local level in those communities from which the majority of troops were recruited.Already suffering from the absence of their husbands, brothers, sons and fathers for years on end, those who remained ‘to keep the home fires burning’ (the women, the children and the elderly) also had to cope with the fact that many failed to return, and many more came home with debilitating and disabling injuries or conditions.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171132/636933989c7e80680e03dfa9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1182" height="388"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>There was little in the way of public ‘welfare assistance’ for these casualties of war and for their families who were obliged to look after them, and also ensure their livelihoods when men were physically unable to work. There was little or no recognition of what today is referred to as ‘post-traumatic stress disorder’, and only the loving care of family members of affected individuals.The economic impact of the war must also have been considerable. Thousands of able-bodied men were taken away not only from their families but also from fields, leaving those left behind to cope with the demands of farming and with a reduced labour force, and one which relied more heavily than ever on women, children and the elderly.The cost in terms of loss of production as well as loss of income at the local level as a result of the absence of so many men for four years is incalculable, but was undoubtedly felt acutely by those affected. There must have been serious additional costs of supporting those who returned home unable to work because of physical or mental trauma.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171132/6369339a9c7e80680e03dfaajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1013"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>But men returned to Nepal with much personal suffering and the loss of comrades. But they also came back with experience of mixing with soldiers from other cultures and backgrounds, facing daily challenges, travelling and visiting places in far-off countries across the sea. All this had a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/what-was-in-it-for-nepal-the-gurkha-soldiers,1820">dramatic impact</a> on social and cultural awareness in the local communities to which they returned.Ultimately, this greater consciousness was to play a part in a growing dissatisfaction with the poverty and underdevelopment of Nepal, and to increasing demands for social, economic and political change in the 1920s and 1930s.Dr David Seddon is Director of Critical Faculty, author/co-author of many publications on Nepal, and currently writing a three-part book on 'Nepal and the Great War'. <h2>11 AM, 11/11/1918</h2>As the world commemorates Armistice Day on 11 November to mark the cessation of hostilities on the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Western_Front_of_World_War_I">Western Front</a>, there does not appear to be much being done in Nepal to remember a war in which so many Nepali soldiers were killed, and one that had such a historic impact on the country’s political, socio-economic and cultural life.The Armistice took effect at eleven o'clock in the morning (the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918) and initially expired after 36 days. A formal peace agreement was only reached when the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Treaty_of_Versailles">Treaty of Versailles</a> was signed the following year. In other theatres of the War, including the Middle East, fighting continued.The date is a national holiday in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Public_holidays_in_France">France</a>, Belgium, and in many Allied nations. In some countries, Armistice Day coincides with <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Remembrance_Day">Remembrance Day</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Veterans_Day">Veterans Day</a>, and other public holidays. In Italy the end of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_I">World War I</a> is commemorated on 4 November, the day of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Armistice_of_Villa_Giusti">Armistice of Villa Giusti</a>. Armistice Day has been a statutory holiday in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serbia">Serbia</a> since 2012, and Poland celebrates National Independence Day on 11 November to commemorate the anniversary of the restoration of Poland's sovereignty in 1918 from the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/German_Empire">German</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Austria-Hungary">Austrian</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russian_Empire">Russian</a> Empires.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171132/6369339d9c7e80680e03dfabjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="505">A German national day of mourning, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Volkstrauertag">Volkstrauertag</a> has, since 1952, been observed on the Sunday closest to 16 November. In <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Denmark">Denmark</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Netherlands">Netherlands</a> and Norway, the end of World War I is not commemorated as the three countries remained neutral. Denmark instead observes Flag Day on 5 September in commemoration of both living and dead soldiers who served in any conflict. In the Netherlands, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Remembrance_of_the_Dead">4 May</a> is Remembrance Day.In India there is no official Armistice Day, but the day has been marked by tributes and ceremonies in army cantonments and by memorial services in some churches. <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prince_Charles">Prince Charles</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camilla,_Duchess_of_Cornwall">Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall</a>, marked the day in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mumbai">Mumbai</a>'s St John the Evangelist Church. Services of remembrance supported by the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indian_Army">Indian Army</a> have been observed at <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kohima_War_Cemetery">Kohima</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imphal_War_Cemetery">Imphal War Cemeteries</a> and at the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Delhi_War_Cemetery">Delhi War Cemetery</a>.Because the two ‘World Wars’ were fought while India was part of the British Empire, the idea of ‘commemoration’ was largely dismissed as an unwanted colonial relic. In July 2016, however, a campaign called India Remembers was launched to commemorate the sacrifice of Indian soldiers in various conflicts, including the First World War, with a proposal that the marigold join the poppy as a symbol of remembrance.The day chosen for the official day of remembrance was 7 December, to commemorate the centenary of a historic cavalry charge led by Indian horsemen on the German trenches on the Somme. The horses and their riders did not fare well against German machine guns, but their sacrifice was something that those who launched the campaign wished to remember as the epitome of  ‘the human spirit in the face of war’.The contradictions between the focus on ‘valour’ on the one hand, and the reality of pain, suffering, injury and death in appalling conditions, on the other, are acute. One strategy that recognises this, at least in part, is to emphasise the importance of commemoration for peace and reconciliation.This year, the British and German governments are encouraging other countries to ring bells at the same time in the same way, expressing the reconciliation of former enemies in sound.

Lest we forget

Who is accountable for teacher-student relationships?

Early on Monday morning, a bus from Pokhara to Kathmandu plunged off the highway in Dhading killing 19 passengers. Two weeks ago, another bus fell into the Tama Kosi in Manthali, killing 12. A few days before that a bus crash in Baitadi killed 13 people.&nbsp; In just the month before Nepal's election, more than 50 people have been killed in road traffic accidents. Most of these cannot be called 'accidents'. They are a direct result of poorly maintained highways and lack of enforcement of traffic discipline. Political parties in Nepal have rolled out their election manifestos, and voters are once again presented with a flood of promises. Page after page, these documents list megawatts and microcredit, highways and airports, jobs and investment. In these manifestos, growth is quantified, projects itemised, revenue forecast — and there are even threats to beat up contractors who do not finish their jobs. But when everything is declared a priority the stale promises are empty. The voter is left confused as to where the party’s loyalties really lie. Will any of these plans and pledges actually ever materialise and help Nepalis live longer, safer, healthier lives? The main job of any accountable government is to protect its citizens, not so much from foreign enemies but from domestic mismanagement. And this means the most basic test the new government should be made to pass is whether it can ensure basic well-being and protection for all its people. The problems of safety, health, and survival remain unresolved for most Nepalis, and are quietly eroding their lives. In the past year alone, the country’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/roadkill">roads and highways claimed more than 2,300</a> lives. An estimated 41,000 Nepalis die each year directly because of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-is-invisible-is-more-dangerous">air pollution</a>, and their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/air-pollution-killing-season-starts-early">lifespans are lessened by 3.4 years</a>.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/poor-health">Non-communicable diseases</a> now account for well over half of total deaths in the country. And even where survival has improved, deprivation remains. Chronic malnutrition continues to haunt communities in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/mass-migration-from-muktikot">Nepal’s western mountains</a> despite progress in maternal and child health.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223130240_4f4ef83a31c3c4ae36ecdffb33a355e2fa3de9e98244b840a895af2d95c35ac0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260223130240_4f4ef83a31c3c4ae36ecdffb33a355e2fa3de9e98244b840a895af2d95c35ac0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1024" height="683" loading="lazy" alt="A life-first manifesto for Nepal NT"> </figure>  These are the lived realities of most Nepalis, and it is here that development can deliver its most immediate returns. A rising GDP, in and of itself, does not make roads safer, clean polluted air, or provide enough nutrition to children. Such outcomes demand intentional, granular policies that confront the specific, everyday problems shaping people’s lives.&nbsp; Macroeconomic growth, trade and investment are important, but these alone cannot guarantee improvements health and safety. The word ‘growth’, after all, is also synonymous with malignancy. Economic progress and human protection are correlated only when governance deliberately links them. Impact on life is the unit in which ordinary Nepalis calculate progress. What is needed, then, is a governing philosophy measurable in these same terms: a ‘life-first’ standard where every policy, budget, and reform can be understood and judged by its impact on protecting and extending human life. Such a ‘life-first’ approach would scrutinise three aspects of every policy. First, whether the policy prevents loss of life. A death is termed preventable if better, more coordinated response systems and regulations could have avoided it (vaccines, drugs, road safety, clean drinking water). A newly built six-lane highway <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/highway-accidents-are-no-accident-in-nepal">can be a death trap</a> due to poor design or lax enforcement of safety rules. If neonatal deaths continue in a district despite hospitals being present, or if malnutrition claims lives in predominantly agricultural regions, they too are failures. Preventable deaths also cluster where accountability is less direct. Just last year, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/suicides-a-pandemic-within-a-pandemic">Nepal recorded 6,866 suicides</a>, with nearly 20 lives lost every day, yet these deaths fail to prompt any serious examination of governance. The same holds for fatalities linked to domestic or communal violence, alcohol and substance misuse, or ‘natural’ disasters, which register as ‘tragedies without remedy’ rather than as outcomes policy can influence. But when avoidable loss of life recurs at scale, isolated incidents become patterns, and patterns reveal systemic neglect. Saving lives, however, is only the first step, and what matters just as much is the quality of years lived. Nepal’s life expectancy now stands at 71 years, yet many citizens spend years in avoidable disability, untreated chronic illness, or mental distress. A life- first government must ask not only whether people live, but whether they thrive. Are citizens able to pursue education, work, and family life without fear of preventable harm? Do communities have access to clean air and water, nutritious food, and basic healthcare? Can a teenager anywhere in Nepal imagine a future not foreclosed by premature marriage, or untreated depression?  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260223130240_157d72b80b82a07699b6bffbb30036b86f0f767a5674cc3db3d5c20343442940.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260223130240_157d72b80b82a07699b6bffbb30036b86f0f767a5674cc3db3d5c20343442940" data-rendition-name="original" width="2529" height="1427" loading="lazy" alt="A life-first manifesto for Nepal NT"> </figure>  Thriving requires policies that prevent suffering and promote well-being in addition to ensuring survival.&nbsp; Finally, governance must consider graceful aging. Elderly Nepalis should not be left to navigate disease, poverty, or isolation alone. Social systems, healthcare, and community support must enable their continued participation and dignified well-being. Adopting this three-layered standard would gradually reorient how success of any new government is defined. Transportation would be judged by fatalities reduced on the roads. Electricity generation would be measured by whether households can switch from firewood dependence to smoke-free electric stoves.&nbsp; Increase in annual rice harvest must translate into better nutrition, reducing the prevalence of chronic diseases like diabetes. Accountability must follow problems rather than stop at Singha Darbar. Only then will politicians and bureaucrats eventually recognise that their work converges on the same human endpoint. Critics will argue that economies are complex, trade-offs are inevitable, and that governance cannot be reduced to a single metric.But, as Acemoglu and Robinson show in their book <a href="https://ia801506.us.archive.org/27/items/WhyNationsFailTheOriginsODaronAcemoglu/Why-Nations-Fail_-The-Origins-o-Daron-Acemoglu.pdf">Why Nations Fail</a>, the key difference between prosperity and poverty lies in inclusive institutions that empower citizens and create broad incentives for well-being.&nbsp; Extractive institutions concentrate power and wealth in the hands of a few while keeping the majority trapped in neglect. Nepal’s governance has remained a striking example of extraction. If lawmakers in the new Parliament continue to resist changes that would save and improve the lives of ordinary citizens, the same systemic rot will persist for generations to come. A life-first mentality can cut through this inertia by clarifying the moral centre of governance and reminding policymakers that behind every policy failure lies human cost. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/epicentre-of-hunger">Every mother in Bajura</a> with a child going hungry at night, every farmer in the Madhes unable to afford medical care, and every family that has lost <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/saving-kidneys-to-save-nepal">a migrant son to kidney failure</a> understands the true <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/dirty-dangerous-difficult-and-dehydrating">value of a life saved</a>. Life is the one metric that transcends ideology, ethnicity, and region. Centering governance on this single, focused metric, can shift an election from a contest of rhetoric to a contest of evidence. Which party ensured access to safe water and basic healthcare? Which made work at home and abroad safer and less exploitative. Which measurably extended healthy years of life for ordinary citizens? Health is wealth. By improving the healthy lifespan of citizens economic prosperity would follow naturally. A ‘life-first’ governance model would therefore compel Nepal to address the underlying structural failures across all sectors, rather than merely alleviating their symptoms. The GenZ protest that toppled the government last September was, at its core, a demand for accountability and a rejection of politics as usual. But as the country edges closer to the polls, that clarity has started to dissipate. Parties are now echoing the language of reform, but the public discourse remains dominated by promises that feel disconnected from Nepal’s most immediate and basic priorities. Every preventable death, every hungry child, and every neglected elder becomes a direct failure of governance and a moral debt the state must answer for. It is how we can make sure we keep the next government in check. The writers are Nepali GenZ students of biomedical engineering at the Hong Kong Polytechnic University.

Nepal’s life or death election

The series Nepal Made profiles Nepali products and the people who make them possible.&nbsp; In the lap of Langtang lie misty meadows that are carpeted with alpine flowers during the monsoon. It was here that Gyalbu Tamang (pictured, right) spent his childhood accompanying his father Pasang Norbu to high pastures, to milk nak and make cheese. Norbu himself was taught to produce Emmentaler cheese by two Swiss experts in the 1950s. Switzerland and Nepal are marking the 70th anniversary of diplomatic ties this year, and the cheese plant in Kyangjin was one of the first the Swiss were involved in.&nbsp; Langtang had surplus milk, and the idea was to turn it into cheese to raise nutrition levels. “The Swiss were very hard-working, and were not used to the laid back attitude of Nepalis,” remembers Gyalbu Tamang, now 50. “The children in Langtang were scared of the tall blonde foreigners, but I got along with them.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221070240_dd47ceaf71a505e075f4a3628baf70161a40ebd21bcec1b1a2ebe03b28da4293.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260221070240_dd47ceaf71a505e075f4a3628baf70161a40ebd21bcec1b1a2ebe03b28da4293" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang cheese"> </figure>  Gyalbu remembers sleeping outdoors with his father, under the stars and gazing at Langtang Lirung luminescent in the moonlight. After the milk was boiled, he helped carry it down in 40 litre churns to Kyangjin for processing.&nbsp; The plant was handed over to the state-run Dairy Development Corporation (DDC). Norbu Lama retired, but cheese making was too ingrained in him. So he bought a dozen yaks and Gyalbu helped him sell the milk. At 18, Gyalbu joined the cheese plant, and 32 years later, he is still there – now manager. “I had learnt everything from my father, so it was easy for me,” Gyalbu recalls. “Trekking boomed in Langtang and there was high demand for cheese. It raised the income of farmers.” 2015 EARTHQUAKE&nbsp; But all that came crashing down just before noon on 25 April 2015 when the earthquake triggered an avalanche that buried Langtang &nbsp;village. More than 300 people, many of them trekkers, were killed. “My father was grazing yaks, and we found him five days later, thrown off by the avalanche. My mother was buried in the ruins of her home,” Gyalbu says. Fortunately, his wife and three children in Kyangjin were safe in their damaged house.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221070240_7c0d512514280965aa72511100a2bda4e515c52c6e6428665dc7dd88c62c7ebf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260221070240_7c0d512514280965aa72511100a2bda4e515c52c6e6428665dc7dd88c62c7ebf" data-rendition-name="original" width="882" height="661" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang cheese"> </figure>  Twenty-seven herders and 400 yaks also perished. The cheese plant was flattened. Even before the disaster, an ageing population, out-migration, and better education meant that fewer Langtangpa were interested in cheese-making. The DDC’s mismanagement also took its toll, and at Rs80 / litre, it was not feasible to herd yaks anymore. The Swiss stepped in again to help rebuild the plant on condition that the price of milk be raised. The DDC agreed to pay up to Rs110/litre depending on fat content, and that price has remained the same.&nbsp; Gyalbu Tamang was in Kathmandu this week, trying again to convince the DDC to raise the price of milk to make cheese-making a worthwhile occupation for the younger generation.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260221070240_61f302b28a3051006fedba92ac1a88ffab13a1ffb3154603bfc6693aee8fca5d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260221070240_61f302b28a3051006fedba92ac1a88ffab13a1ffb3154603bfc6693aee8fca5d" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang cheese"> </figure>  There are only three yak ranches left and the numbers of yak, nak and dzo have shrunk. In its heyday, Langtang used to produce 5,000kg of cheese per year. Today, it is down to 800kg. The cheese is sold in Kathmandu for about Rs2,000 per kg, but the plant has no savings to upgrade its 80-year-old equipment. “We are on our own, there is not much help from the government or Langtang people overseas,” laments Gyalbu. “I do not know what the future holds, but I will keep making cheese as long as there is milk, and as long as I am able.”&nbsp;

Langtang Emmentaler

Of the nearly 19 million eligible voters in next week’s election in Nepal, an estimated 5 million are abroad and cannot cast their ballots. Many others within Nepal must travel to their home districts, and might decide not to because of the cost.
Flights into Kathmandu these days are full of global Nepalis returning just to vote, but almost as many are leaving for overseas jobs. Most of those coming or going are in the 20-40 age group, and a majority want Nepal to see a change in leadership.
Bangladesh held an election this month in which citizens overseas could vote by mail.&nbsp;
“Bangladesh made maximum use of technology not just for campaigning but also for polling itself. We could have also managed this, so people within Nepal did not have to travel to their home districts to vote,” says Mohna Ansari, former head of Nepal’s National Human Rights Commission who was an election observer in Bangladesh.
A 3-day holiday has been declared so people can travel to their home constituencies to cast ballots. Even if there was not enough time to manage ballots for overseas Nepalis, it could have been done for Nepalis within Nepal.
Former Chief Election Commissioner Bhojraj Pokharel reckons that physical voting in countries with a large Nepali diaspora would have been a logistical nightmare, but in the PR system, using electronic voting machines or paper ballot could have been piloted in some places. It is not possible to manage the entire voting process until we introduce the internet voting system.
“First of all, there needs to be political will to bring the policy and be ready to undertake that level of investment and it is not a one-time cost,” Pokharel says. “A government formed by the GenZ could have atr least issed an ordinance ensuring this right, piloted out-of-country voting where possible, which could have built pressure for the future Parliament and the government. It would have given people hope. It is a lost opportunity.”
All major political parties called for voting rights for global Nepalis in their manifestos, but these very leaders blocked legislation allowing it despite a 2017 Supreme Court ruling out of fear that it would be anti-incumbent.&nbsp;
<h2>Why so late?</h2>
Bangladesh delivered election results in just one day, but the final results of Nepal's last local polls in 2022 including that of Kathmandu constituencies took nearly a month.
Acting Chief Election Commissioner Ram Prasad Bhandari said this week that the results of the First-Past-The-Post (FPTP) ballot counting would “likely” be published within 24 hours of the poll closing at 5PM on 5 March. But many are skeptical.
“I wonder if we lack the capacity or know-how to announce results as quickly as possible,” says Mohna Ansari.
Former Chief Election Commissioner Pokharel says manual ballot paper counting in Nepal is inherently slow because of the large numner of political parties and/or candidates on the ballot, the counting mechanism, the political behaviour of the candidates/parties and some managerial issues during counting.
“Our present policy is to count all the ballot papers at the returning officers' officies, located at the district headquarters. It requires collecting ballot boxes safetly first. This takes time, and there have been cases of ballot boxes being damaged or stolen during transport. In a few highly difficult, geographically remote polling centres, we use a helicopter or transport. But sometimes, accommodating the party and candidates' representatives remains challenging,” explains Pokharel. A solution could be counting ballots at the very booths where they are cast.
Another reason for the delay is simply the number of political parties, and the need for each ballot paper to be examined by booth representatives for consensus. In close races, the smallest difference can lead to tense situations, further delaying results, even though counting centres are protected by metal fencing so there is no disruption.
After this, then it is the turn of Proportional Representation (PR) ballots to be counted. Weeks pass by the time the results of candidates and parties are tallied and verified. But the most common delay is because election officers think ballot counting is a nine-to-five job.&nbsp;
“The efficiency of poll station officers is most important, and they are incentivised for this,” says Ansari, adding that counting can even start within an hour after voting closes.
In remote areas, local resources could be mobilised to make counting quicker, but there is a crisis of trust, adds Ansari.&nbsp;
That could be easily solved with electronic voting which the EC implemented in the 2008 polls but discontinued because political parties felt the machines could be hacked or manipulated.

gurkha-recruitment

A forgotten Gurkha rebellion

A forgotten Gurkha rebellion

Lest we forget

Who is accountable for teacher-student relationships?

Nepal’s life or death election

Langtang Emmentaler

Nepalis Select Who To Elect