In 1974, I was in Nepal conducting research for my PhD thesis on the country’s bureaucracy from 1850 to 1950. Tribhuvan University approved my research project and wrote letters on my behalf to government officials. Since I had taught as a Peace Corps volunteer here from 1966-1969, I could speak and understand basic Nepali and had some knowledge of the culture and bureaucracy. But I was hardly prepared for the bureaucratic obstacles to study the bureaucracy of the Rana era for which I needed access to original government records. The records I sought were held by Goswara Tahvil (GT), an office under the Finance Ministry. Its Hakim reported to the Accountant General (AG). The AG reported to the Joint Secretary, who reported to the Secretary, who reported to the Minister of Finance appointed by King Birendra. At that time, many of His Majesty's Government (HMG) offices were located in Singha Darbar, and one could enter that vast building without an ID, wander its dark halls at will, casually look into an office, and, showing proper deference, often be ushered in to meet an official without a prior appointment. Some months after beginning my research, I heard there was a collection of historical documents held by Goswara Tahvil. It took me six months to obtain permission to access those records useful in writing my thesis. Fifty years later, I wonder if the bureaucracy has changed very much: Nepali readers will know better. 6 March, 1974: An elderly former civil servant informs me a collection of old government records is stored at a former Rana residence in Patan. I go to GT to meet the head and inquire about these records. Offices open at 10 o’clock, but I never go to meet government officials before 11. The Hakim is not there.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024031604034_79d802280596fe2b005da631ec2527f4e2176b878e084ec70719c1885c9e7fda.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024031604034_79d802280596fe2b005da631ec2527f4e2176b878e084ec70719c1885c9e7fda" data-rendition-name="original" width="1701" height="1126" loading="lazy" alt="Registers"> <figcaption>Registers of Rana-era government employees were at Kitab Khana in Patan. They are now at the National Archives.</figcaption> </figure>  11 March: I return to GT. Again, the Hakim is out. 13 March: I meet the Hakim, and he allows me to copy from a panjika or general list of the records I seek. He says the Accountant General can give me permission to read the records. I go to the AG’s office in Singha Darbar. He is out. 14 March: I go to see the AG. He is not in the office. 15 March: I write a letter to the Finance Ministry (enclosing copies of my sponsoring letters from Tribhuvan University and the University of Chicago) asking permission to see those records. 16-30 March: I am away from Kathmandu. &nbsp;1 April: I plan to go meet the AG only to find out it is a government holiday. &nbsp;2 April: I locate my application in another office (Mal Pot) of the Finance Ministry. Someone there had initialed my letter of request, but the office director quotes a rule that no documents could be shown to me without an order from his superiors. He promises to resubmit my file. I meet the AG. He says he will need a letter from his superiors. I locate the office of the Joint Secretary, who immediately rings up the two officials I have talked to today. 3 April: The president of France died, so for the second time in four days it is a government holiday. 5 April: I meet the AG and write an application to see the documents. I affix a 1-rupee stamp to comply with the regulations. He promises me a letter on the 8th. 8 April: I meet the AG. He says approval has been given, but he has not yet received authorisation. 10 April: The Hakim allows me to see some records in his office but points out that in my application I wrote that I wanted to 'look at' the records, but had said nothing about 'copying' them. Therefore, he must seek clarification. There are no photocopy machines available, nor can cameras be used. Laptops and scanners have yet to be invented. Records must be copied by hand. 11 April: I meet the AG. He says he has submitted my application but has received no response. 12 April: I go to GT. I can’t write in Nepali so I can’t copy records by hand in Nepali. The Hakim says he will have to check whether I am allowed to have my research helper copy documents. 15 April: I call the AG by phone regarding the documents stored in Patan. He still has not heard anything, and in the midst of our conversation the phone line goes dead. Back at the GT, my helper can copy parts of the documents as long as I sign at the top and bottom of each page of material he writes in my notebook. This is progress! 18 April: I meet the AG in Singha Darbar and just have a friendly chat with him to try to win him over. I tell him I hope he can visit me in America some day. 21 April: I decide to go again and talk to the Joint Secretary in the Finance Ministry. He is out. I return after lunch. He is still out. 22 April: I meet the JS. He says my file is at higher levels, but I can look at the records in Patan. I go to GT. The Hakim won’t be back for a week. His assistant says they have received no instructions but that the AG can give me permission. 23 April: I meet the AG and tell him I’ve heard he could give me the necessary permission. He promises to do so by 1PM tomorrow. 25 April: Another president of a foreign country died, so again government offices are closed. 26 April: The records I seek are stored about three miles from the GT office. I hail a taxi, and an office piun with keys rides with me. He opens the door to a large room which is full of several hundred cloth sacks (poka) piled on top of each other. I step onto a pile and pull out some sacks, on each of which is written a year that identifies the date of the documents inside. I untie some bundles; I suspect documents in the bundle marked 1957 (1900 AD) have not been consulted since they were copied 74 years ago. Some groups of records are identified, such as 'West No. 2, 1942' (1885 AD), but none has an index. Other records are rolled up like scrolls and tied with string. All the documents are handwritten in Nepali on strong, locally-made paper. Most are amazingly well preserved. However, much of the handwriting is illegible or difficult to read. I am not permitted to copy anything, but do note down some sacks that may contain material of interest. 29 April: I go again to the record warehouse near Patan, but by noon no one has come from the main office to unlock the door. My helper goes to GT to find out the problem and returns with the news that since I have asked to look at so many bundles, they cannot let me look at any of them. They need an official order to do so. 5 May: I go to GT after lunch. The Hakim is out. I never know whether he has come in and gone out on an errand and will return; whether he has come in and gone home for the day; or whether he has not come to the office that day and has no intention of doing so. 7 May: I go to GT. The Hakim says I must bring him a written order and that the AG and Joint Secretary should not make verbal requests of him. 9 May: I ask a Research Section Officer at Tribhuvan University whether the government has a policy on making its historical records available to bona fide researchers and why he thinks I’m having such difficulties. He offers to write a letter on my behalf and submit it to the Finance Ministry. 12 May: I leave a letter at the University explaining what records I want to see and ask the University’s assistance in obtaining the necessary permission.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024031604034_23a13218df72ed6a6313e6fb81eae6bce3909562d6f4defd42a100bef513eb9d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024031604034_23a13218df72ed6a6313e6fb81eae6bce3909562d6f4defd42a100bef513eb9d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1760" height="1180" loading="lazy" alt="Tansen"> <figcaption>Tansen, Palpa in 1974.</figcaption> </figure>  14 May to 18 June: I am in Tansen, Palpa, previously governed by a Rana Bada Hakim, to search for old government records. The Chief District Officer (CDO) is a friendly, educated young man who has traveled abroad and understands what research is all about. He immediately gives me permission to look at all the historical records, including the Adalat (Court) and Revenue (Mal) offices. Aware of the CDO’s blessing, other local officials are very cooperative and welcome me into their offices. I engage an elderly man to copy records for me. He lives in Tansen, worked for years as a bahidar, and can easily decipher and understand the documents. He sits by the hour and labouriously copies the material I put before him. I know he is pleased that a foreigner values his ability and knowledge of an era that most younger Nepalis know little about and dismiss as the 'Dark Ages'. &nbsp;To demonstrate his personal loyalty to me and his gratitude for his temporary employment, the scribe addresses me using high honorific forms of speech (sarkar and baksinu) and follows respectfully two steps behind me as we go to visit the other town offices. After my struggles in Kathmandu, I feel I deserve some sycophancy. &nbsp;20 June: Back in Kathmandu, I meet the University gent who wrote a letter on my behalf last month. He says no reply to his letter has come from the AG or anyone else.&nbsp; 21 June: I meet the AG. He says the Ministry has asked him how secret documents could be kept out of my hands. I have no idea, and doubt anyone does, how thousands of documents could be 'declassified' and by whom. I offer to submit another list of what I want first if I can look through the sacks again to do this. The AG asks me to make such a list. 25 June: I give a brief list (based on my April 26th search) of records to the AG. He says he will submit this list with my application.&nbsp; 27 June: I met the AG. He is visibly nervous and tells me it will not be possible to see any of the records, and that anyway the sacks of records are unavailable as they are being moved from Patan.&nbsp; 28 June: I go to Singha Darbar and ask for an appointment with the Minister of Finance. Since the annual budget is being prepared, I am informed the Minister has no time for the next two weeks. His personal secretary thinks my file has reached their office, but he wonders about the problem of confidential documents falling into my hands. I reply that since most of the records are from 30 to 150 years old and have nothing to do with the King or the present administration, it is difficult to imagine what 'secrets' they might contain. 19 July: I have let the dust settle for three weeks. Today is a busy day. I meet the Joint Secretary. He calls the AG and demands to know what has happened to my application and why I cannot see the records. He hangs up and cheerfully tells me everything will now be all right. I go to meet the (now chastised) AG and give him another list (the third?) of what I want to see. Newly energised, I go to meet the Hakim. He says all the old records will be moved on the 22nd. Then they will have to be arranged, so that it will be a week before I can see them.&nbsp; 5 August: I give the Hakim two weeks, but when I go to GT, the records have still not arrived. I go to meet the AG. He says to come back next week, as the Hakim has promised to have the records available by then. The AG causally mentions that I could 'look at but not copy' anything in the records. So I’m back to the situation on 26 April.&nbsp; 11 August: I meet the Hakim. The records have not been moved yet, he says to come back on the 14th.&nbsp; 14 August: I return to GT. Still no sign of the old records. I take two clerks by taxi to the Patan warehouse. I make a more detailed list of the documents I want to read. The clerks protest that I am not to copy the documents. I try to explain in Nepali the difference between writing down the title of a group of documents and copying their contents. Indignantly they seize my list. 15 August: I go to GT. The assistant is upset because I made a list yesterday. We go together to see the AG. I say, “Let’s get this decided today, one way or the other.” The AG brightens up and calls for my file. After it is located, he goes off to the Finance Ministry to talk with the Secretary. I leave to meet the Minister’s personal secretary to see if I can meet the Minister in case the Secretary refuses to give permission. At the Minister’s outer office, the AG walks in. After talking with the Joint Secretary and the Secretary (obviously neither one was willing to make a decision and instructed him to see the Minister), the AG has come to get in line. The AG sends me back to his office, while he sits outside the Minister’s office. The AG waits there for two hours, but the Minister leaves his office before the AG can see him. The AG comes back and tells me he will take my file to the Minister tomorrow. 16 August: Resorting to a common practice (chakri) observed 50 years ago in Nepal, I go out to the Minister’s house early in the morning in hopes I can have an audience (darshan) with him and persuade him to cut through the bureaucratic red tape and approve my application. In the Rana days, I might have come bearing a basket of fruit or other offering, but I simply hand over my letter of introduction from the University and my business card. The guard at the gate takes them and gives them to someone else for delivery inside the house. Word comes back that the Minister currently is getting dressed and that I am to come to his office later today. I realise there is some risk in bypassing all the lower-level authorities I have met. I want my application to be a routine request to examine some ancient records so unimportant that few people even know they exist. Later, I get cold feet and decide to let the AG approach the Minister first. If the AG does nothing or is unsuccessful, then I will call on the Minister at his office. 18 August: I meet the AG. He has not yet been able to see the Minister. 21 August: I go to meet the AG. He has been sick since I last saw him and has not met the Minister. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 23-28 August: I am away from Kathmandu. 29 August: I meet the AG at his office. He says he has met the Minister. I will probably get the necessary permission, but my file remains at the upper reaches of the bureaucratic maze.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024031604038_a888f29ec7edd1d92a77a4cc73b42008427a757ed98b04906818ac908045105b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024031604038_a888f29ec7edd1d92a77a4cc73b42008427a757ed98b04906818ac908045105b" data-rendition-name="original" width="4793" height="3641" loading="lazy" alt="Archives"> <figcaption>The seals of Chandra Shumsher and Bhim Shumsher in Nepali, English and Arabic script authenticated a 1920 government document found in the archives.</figcaption> </figure>  5 September: As I am approaching the GT, I am hailed on the road by an official who works for the AG. He informs me His Majesty’s Government has granted me permission to use the records in my research. In triumph I take a signed copy of the order to GT. The Hakim is not there. The assistant says he will say nothing from now on and admits that the old records are not secret. He tells me to go to the Patan warehouse (the records still have not been moved) on the 8th to begin work. The office also will provide a man who will copy the records I need. &nbsp;8-30 September: Not everything is smooth sailing. The office scribe works for two days, then tells me the work bores him and he is quitting. Since no office piun will carry sacks of documents on his shoulder from Patan to Kathmandu, I have to pay for a taxi to and from the warehouse and can bring only two sacks at a time to GT. Due to rotted beams, a large section of GT’s ceiling collapses, so my work comes to a halt as no staff appears for several days. Then the office assistant again tries to obstruct by claiming there is secret material about the King in records he has never read. I ignore him. Subsequently, in all the documents I go through, I find no reference to anything a king ever said or did. &nbsp;Looking back, I am grateful to the Government of Nepal for permission to access its official records. In Nepal if one remains polite, shows respect and not anger, combines unfailing patience with dogged persistence, things can work out in the end. In the mid-1970s, twenty-five years after the fall of the Ranas, the Nepal bureaucracy had changed in significant ways, yet still retained characteristic features of the old regime. New and greatly expanded departments (ministries) were charged with implementing new programs to advance public welfare and promote 'development'.&nbsp; The purpose of government had changed for the better. But the bureaucracy remained highly centralised, bureaucrats felt loyalty to one powerful leader, the king who had replaced the Rana Prime Minister. They were still reluctant to take initiatives or to make decisions. It was more important for them to defer to and please superiors than to respond to the needs of the public.&nbsp; The Ranas at least maintained tight supervision over functioning of the central government in Kathmandu. Under the Panchayat it was unclear just how and by whom ordinary civil servants were being held accountable. In some Nepal government offices today, there still are thousands of historical documents in Nepali, and many in the Foreign Ministry are in English. I hope government officials will facilitate access to them by Nepali and foreign scholars as well as by anyone with an interest in history.

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Bureaucratic hurdles in researching Nepal's bureaucracy

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111144/63721c0f9c7e80680e0bd471jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1091" height="818"/>In June 2019, a team from the <a href="http://narchives.gov.np" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">National Archives</a> reached Taplejung in eastern Nepal to find decaying handwritten parchments, centuries-old manuscripts, and stone inscriptions all lying abandoned.There were invaluable centuries-old lalmohar documents and deeds with official seals stacked in nooks and carnies of households, mouldy and decomposing.The initial plan for the Archives team was just to copy the text from two historic bronze bells in front of the Nageshvar Temple, but they decided to stay for three more days, digitising 77 historic documents and 95 letters.The images of those documents are now in the digital archives, even though the originals have been lost. And these were most likely just a tiny proportion of all the material still out there waiting to be discovered.“With neither the resources nor expertise, we have been unable to collect and conserve other historic documents,” admits Bishwa Nath Sitaula, mayor of Aathrai Tribeni municipality in Taplejung.The only documents in the municipality’s collection are government papers from four years ago. For anything older, one has to visit the ward or the district administration offices, where they are in no better condition.Sitaula says, “We now need a separate budget just for the conservation of the archives.”At the other end of the country in Gorkha, the situation is the same. The mayor of Gorkha Rajan Raj Panta says, “It would be a lot easier to budget and work if the responsibilities of the local governments were set out in the law itself.”According to the Archives Conservation Act 1989 and the Archives Conservation Regulations 2006, it is up to the National Archives in Kathmandu to collect and conserve documents that are 25 years and older. A bill has been prepared to amend the Act so that the responsibility may be divided among all three levels of the government, which is currently under review in Parliament.The Constitution also stipulates that the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/local-government-by-the-people-for-the-people-of-the-people/">local governments </a>should keep records of their documents and artifacts which the National Archives has repeatedly asked the provinces and the municipalities to send them, but to no avail.And even as the five-year term of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-local-election-gives-power-back-to-people/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">elected officials</a> is coming to a close, no budget has been set aside for the collection and conservation of historical and archaeological archives in their respective regions.The Mayor of Rolpa’s Tribeni Rural Municipality Shanta Kumar Oli does not even have an inventory of the temples and archaeological artefacts in his region.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/adventures-of-a-lone-archivist/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Adventures of a lone archivist</a>, Alisha Sijapati<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111144/63721c139c7e80680e0bd472jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1540" height="912">To be sure, all 753 local governments in the country are in the same boat to a greater or lesser degree. The oral tradition of Nepali history and culture is rich and vibrant. But without proper archaeological evidence and documentation, the country’s heritage and history are going from existence to extinction.The National Archives wants a systematic effort with local governments to prevent further degradation and loss of historical records but it could only dispatch a single team last year for location research.In October 2021, one such team was studying and photographing some 50 documents, inscriptions and copper-plate engravings in Kakani and Bidur municipalities of Nuwakot when it got word of a few more unrecorded historical objects nearby. But there was no time and money to extend the trip.“Our limited budget is just enough to cover salaries and overheads,” laments Rajju Hada at the National Archives. “There really is no alternative to local governments taking up the responsibility.”Outgoing MP Radheshyam Adhikari says the Act should be promulgated soon and this will open the process for local governments to take charge.“But there is no need for them to sit around and wait for it to protect the archival heritage under their jurisdiction,” he adds. “Their priorities need to change from building view-towers to preserving our heritage.”Birendranagar Municipality of Karnali Province is getting its own regional archive and museum. Work began in 2016 to preserve the region’s endangered inscriptions, genealogies, copper plates and documents.Karnali is culturally, historically and anthropologically significant. It is rich in archaeological evidence since it was part of the ancient Khas kingdom, with its capital in the Sinja Valley. There in present-day Jumla is where some of the earliest written examples of the Nepali language can be found.Birendranagar’s Rs10 million project will be completed this month, after which a team of experts will be formed to inspect and study the archaeological sites in Dailekh, Achham and Jumla“I have been reaching out to the National Archives for advice and guidance,” says Arjun Shahi, chief of the Birendranagar Archive. “And we have asked the provincial government for a budget to bring in the necessary technology and human resources.”Archivist Shamik Mishra at the <a href="https://madanpuraskar.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Madan Puraskar Pustakalaya</a> in Kathmandu sees this as a major step, adding that studying and conserving a document in the same environment where it was produced can help preserve its intrinsic context.He says: “If the central archive collects and conserves every single record, inscription or object, it may be more difficult to recognise their original meaning and value in the future. Archiving must be decentralised.”Read also:<a href="http://www.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2015/05/17/documenting-loss/" target="blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Documenting Loss</a>, Stéphane HuëtAdapted from the Nepali original in Himalkhabar monthly by Ashish Dhakal.

Saving Nepal’s archives from oblivion

Fenerbahçe Beko won the Turkish Airlines EuroLeague finals in Abu Dhabi, held 23-25 May, defeating Monaco 81-70 in the final. Olympiacos, who defeated Panathinaikos 97-93, finished the series in third place. The Most Valuable Player (MVP) of the final match, Nigel Hayes-Davis from Fenerbahçe Beko, received a prize of 1,000,000 Miles&amp;Smiles from Turkish Airlines’ Chief Commercial Officer Ahmet Olmuştur. The carrier has been the title sponsor of the Turkish Airlines EuroLeague, a top tier tournament, since 2010.

Turkish Basketball

Thousands of Nepali students dreaming of an American education have been forced to look elsewhere as the Trump administration’s visa restrictions make their future uncertain.
The US was long considered a top destination for higher studies, making Nepal the 10th biggest country of origin for international students in America.&nbsp;
However, that number has seen a significant decline with the total for Nepali students now at 16,482. Some 8,000 Nepali students obtained no-objection certificates to study in the US from the Ministry of Education in the past year.&nbsp;
India, Australia, Canada, South Korea, United Kingdom and Japan are the other popular destinations for Nepali students. There are no clear numbers for Nepalis going to India, but a slight decline was noted this year after the deaths of two female students.
The US State Department has issued a circular to its embassies not to issue new visas to applicants until further notice. US Secretary of State Marco Rubio in the directive stated that the department planned to expand the screening of applicants' social media.&nbsp;
While new applicants are barred including those applying for visitor visas, students with scheduled interviews are allowed to proceed.
“Many of our students are affected by the new restrictions, but those who had applied for student visas earlier have got interview dates,” one Kathmandu-based college counsellor told us.
Meanwhile, even foreign students with spotless records already in the US have not been spared, as visa scrutiny intensifies under the new policy. In a move that underscores the growing sense of insecurity, many US colleges advised international students to carry their passports and documents at all times, even when traveling locally.
“Me and my friends did not go home this summer because we were not sure we would be allowed back, so we just went to Niagara Falls,” said a Nepali undergrad in Ohio, who like many interviewed for this report did not want her name used for fear of repercussion.
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Nepali students have adopted a cautious stance, with many choosing not to return home during summer vacation due to fear of visa revocations as well as travel bans. Meanwhile, over 7,000 Nepalis with Temporary Protected Status (TPS) will have to come back to Nepal by 5 August or face deportation. Thirty-seven were flown back to Kathmandu on Omni Air last week.
“The US is one of the most sought-after destinations for higher education, and the ban will definitely impact bright students,” says Narottam Aryal of the King’s College in Kathmandu.
Indeed, Nepali undergraduates admitted into Ivy League colleges for the 2025 academic year have been asked to look for alternatives. The entire Fulbright Foreign Scholarships Board resigned on Wednesday citing interference from the Trump administration on the selection of this year’s cohort. Some Nepali students already on Fulbright scholarships have noted disruptions, delays and even cancellation of stipends.&nbsp;
The student visa restrictions were initially just for foreign students admitted to Harvard University, but it was later extended to all Chinese students and now to all students. Universities like Columbia which actively recruit foreign students, face sharp enrolment declines, threatening their financial stability and diversity.
An Indian female PhD candidate at Columbia University had her visa revoked by the US State Department, and said she was targeted on the basis of her social media posts on Israeli military attacks in Gaza. Social media vetting of political activism has raised concerns about privacy and freedom of expression in a country where such rights were a given.
Many students have been informed via email that their visas have been revoked for getting speeding or parking tickets, but even others with no criminal record have been affected. The fear of deportation looms large amongst international students, including those from Nepal.&nbsp;
For most Nepalis who migrate to the US for education, the journey is a high-stakes investment. They come largely from middle-class families, often rely on a patchwork of scholarships, work-study programs, loans, or even the sale of family assets to afford fees.
Most Nepali students pursue STEM subjects which offer extended Optional Practical Training (OPT) periods that help fund their education. But with the US backsliding on education and humanitarian matters, countries like the UK and Canada are becoming more attractive despite their own recent stricter controls on student visas.&nbsp;
The UK universities saw a 63% rise in Nepali students’ admissions in 2024. Japan is another popular destination with 64,816 Nepali students enrolled as of 2024.
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Already, China, Hong Kong and Malaysia are poised to benefit from the increased scrutiny of US student visas. Several Hong Kong universities are offering unconditional admission to affected students, while Malaysian institutions are targeting previously US-bound Asian students. China and India have 330,000 and 280,000 students respectively in America, but the numbers for China have seen a sharp drop in the past year.
Elsewhere, branch campuses of American institutions such as NYU in Abu Dhabi, Georgetown in Dubai and Northwestern in Doha are getting more admission applications, and universities in the Gulf region are expanding infrastructure to accommodate those who would otherwise have gone to the US.&nbsp;
Even educational institutions in Nepal are hopeful that the US visa restrictions can be an opportunity to at least keep Nepali undergrads in Nepal, and also attract foreign students from the region.&nbsp;
“Many students might choose to complete their undergraduate degree here in Nepal and then move abroad for their Master’s degree later,” says Aryal of King’s College. “There was a need for quality higher education in Nepal anyway in terms of innovation and opportunities, so this could be the time to reduce our dependence on other countries.”
Nepal’s strategic position between India and China makes it sensitive to US policy shifts. India, a key ally, is also under US scrutiny for potential student travel restrictions. Chinese universities are already offering more scholarships to Nepali talent to capitalise on the US retreat.
American universities have challenged student visa restrictions in the courts. A federal court in Boston revoked the blanket ban on Harvard, and the State Department has ordered the resumption of processing student and exchange visitor visas.&nbsp;
Some are still hoping that President Trump will backtrack on the student visa restrictions, just like he has done with many of his more drastic executive orders.
Even so, the visa see-saw and longer-term uncertainties about living in the United States and its education system means students across the world are making alternative plans.
Says Aryal: “Policies of foreign countries change according to their needs, so excessive dependence was never a good idea. We should work to create different opportunities and choices of higher education within Nepal, so students are retained.” &nbsp;

America no longer prime destination for Nepali students

That winter day in January 1664 marked an exceptional event in the reign of King Pratap Malla of Kathmandu. It was 15 Paush 784 of the Nepal Sambat and for the first time, a historical event was being immortalised on canvas for generations to come.&nbsp; The occasion was the grand Tuladaan ceremony of the King’s youngest son Chakrabartendra Malla from his wife Anantapriya, an Indian princess from Cooch Behar in present-day Assam.&nbsp; During the ritual, the prince was weighed against gold, silver, pearls, and other precious stones, which were then offered to Goddess Taleju Bhavani, the guardian deity of the Malla dynasty.&nbsp; The 170 x120cm painting captures the time of King Pratap Malla in all its splendour and is more than a personal tribute to his son: it is a significant visual historical document. It was evidently completed five years later in 1669, and could be considered a photographic record, with retrospective recreation of the event by the unknown artist. A Tuladaan ceremony is performed to purify one’s karma, quell impending bad luck, or as an act of charity and devotion. Chakrabartendra Malla was not well, and the ritual was performed in hopes of restoring his health. King Pratap Malla had arranged for each of his sons to take turns ruling Kathmandu so they got administrative experience. But Chakrabartendra died just two days after assuming power in 1670 (790 NS). This painting is considered the earliest known example in which the composition is dominated by an architectural landscape: the Taleju Temple. Given the stylistic features such as side-profile facial depictions and the rendering of human forms, it is believed that the Nepali artist was trained by a Rajput master.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250615040624_ddad3bc27a327e3f9926c8473287e4f14b53081296c295049009f327a4d97051.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250615040624_ddad3bc27a327e3f9926c8473287e4f14b53081296c295049009f327a4d97051" data-rendition-name="original" width="3248" height="4395" loading="lazy" alt="Tuladaan NT"> </figure>  During that era, there were regular exchanges of artists between Northern India and Kathmandu Valley. The painting is also a melding of Nepali, Tibetan, Mughal, and Rajput art styles of the time. Pratap Malla could have been inspired by a painting of Mughal Emperor Jahangir’s Tuladaan ceremony for his son Khurram in 1607. The Mallas and Mughals shared cordial relations, which is reflected in the cultural influences seen in the art and attire of the period.&nbsp; The clothing of the Malla ruling class, in particular, features colourful tunics, turbans, and jewelry that display strong Rajput and Mughal stylistic elements. The musicians in the upper tier are also dressed in Indian-style clothing, while the ensemble on the lower steps wear local attire, notably without turbans. Their hairstyles also differ, with the lower group wearing their hair tied in a bun at the front. This national treasure is currently in storage at the Collège de France in Paris, and has never been publicly displayed. Nepal’s art scholars like Gautam Vajracharya, Pratap Aditya Pal and Anne Vergati have written about this iconic paubha in the past, but the only detailed study is from the perspective of music history by researcher Richard Widdess who had access to high resolution copies of the original.&nbsp; Widdess from the Department of Music at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) in London describes the paubha as the most significant and richly detailed documentation of music in Nepali art. He identifies distinct musical ensembles on the terraces of the temple, and remarkably most of them are actively used today. One of them reflects the Mughal naqqārakhāna model — a loud outdoor ensemble typically composed of kettledrums, trumpets, and cymbals, traditionally performed from the gateway of the emperor’s palace to announce his entrances and exits. The depiction of such an ensemble in the tulādāna painting is likely the earliest known representation of a complete naqqārakhāna in Nepal — considered the forerunner of the panche baja, the traditional Nepali ensemble. On the stepped pyramid base of the temple are two groups of musicians playing local instruments: dhimey, bhushya, and dha. They are unmistakably Newar musicians, wearing short skirts and short-sleeved tops, with bare heads and legs—clearly distinguished as local performers.&nbsp; Higher still on the temple pyramid are musicians of apparently higher status, positioned close to the king, and his courtiers, possibly professional court musicians from India, well-versed in rāga and tāla. A dāphā group is also clearly depicted, identifiable by their characteristic instruments.&nbsp; Dāphā bhajan is likely the oldest surviving tradition of Newar devotional singing, and this paubha is the oldest visual record of it. Pratap Malla himself is believed to have composed songs that continue to be performed by dāphā groups throughout Kathmandu till today.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025061211064_d67636730cdc0ec778c02494817aca0b99654f2950d0fae4b95499a61faf7ef3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025061211064_d67636730cdc0ec778c02494817aca0b99654f2950d0fae4b95499a61faf7ef3" data-rendition-name="original" width="596" height="768" loading="lazy" alt="Priceless paubha in Paris NT"> </figure>  The artist’s thorough attention to musical detail may be attributed to King Pratap Malla’s own deep interest in music. His inscriptions on this painting and elsewhere proclaim his mastery of all branches of knowledge, including music. He is also known as the author of dance dramas and poems, penning his name as Kavindra (king of poets). Some noteworthy elements of new art techniques stand out: for example, the roof of the temple is filled with realistically rendered white doves, pigeons, and crows. This is a rare feature in paubha, where animals and birds are stylised, mythological forms. This remarkably talented unknown artist has managed to also render an orthographic projection: the front and side view of Nepal’s first architectural paubha. The Taleju Temple, with its staggering multi-tiered structure and numerous steps and platforms, is masterfully translated into layers within the painting. This represents a significant artistic achievement of the time, especially considering that dimensional perspectives had not started in deity-based paubha.&nbsp; The artist has also made a meticulous effort to capture architectural details such as the toran (ornamental arch) and temple struts with impressive precision. There are flickering lamps along the steps and some people carrying what appear to be oil pots.&nbsp; It is a full moon night and the dark sky is adorned with all the gods and goddesses, who are depicted as blessing the ceremony while seated on stylised thangka clouds. There is a lot happening in this painting, with people engaged in various activities. The artist has also rendered a forest backdrop behind the temple, complete with deer, trees, and flowers. Could there have once been a royal garden behind the Taleju Temple?&nbsp; More details and clarity can only be achieved if we are able to view the original or a high-resolution scanned version of the artwork. Many countries proudly display art depicting historical events in their national museums with great reverence. France, for example, has The Coronation of Emperor Napoleon and Empress Joséphine by Jacques-Louis David (1808–1822), along with numerous paintings of the Napoleonic Wars. Many were commissioned by Napoleon himself for future generations to remember.&nbsp; For Nepal, the equivalent is the Tuladaan paubha which is a visual record capturing a historic moment involving one of Kathmandu’s greatest kings, on the very day the event took place. Sadly, we await the day when this masterpiece is displayed, shared in high resolution for detailed study, or more rightfully — repatriated to its homeland, where it truly belongs. &nbsp; Shaguni Singh Sakya is the Director of the Museum of Nepali Arts (MoNA) at Kathmandu Guest House in Thamel. <h2>Gods homeward bound</h2> The Nepal Heritage Recovery Campaign and Nepal’s Department of Archaeology are convening the first international conference on the Recovery of Cultural Heritage from 16-18 June in Patan. The conference will address urgent issues of theft, illicit trafficking, the campaign to repatriate looted cultural artifacts, and explore how the return of sacred antiquities contributes to justice, healing, and reconciliation for communities and nations affected by cultural loss. American art crime professor Erin L Thompson and Saubhagya Pradhananga of the Department of Archaeology will deliver the keynote. Meanwhile, author and Nepali Times publisher Kunda Dixit will lead a conversation on Illicit Trafficking: Public Opinion and Role of Media with Erin Thompson, Amr Al Azm, associate professor of Middle East History and Anthropology at Shawnee State University in Ohio, as well as Bradley J Gordon, a lawyer based in Phnom Penh. There will be sessions looking at repatriation perspectives from Cambodia, India, Vietnam, China and Poland, international frameworks for repatriation, emerging digital technologies in the repatriation of cultural heritage, cultural property agreements, museums as well as trends in the art market, and heritage diplomacy and the role of media.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025061211068_59cfccfa8f5d73bfe8b4c5811a7f53abc09ea04e8cb7c638933d62e5283efdf6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025061211068_59cfccfa8f5d73bfe8b4c5811a7f53abc09ea04e8cb7c638933d62e5283efdf6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="1350" loading="lazy" alt="Heritage recovery NT"> </figure>  <h2> </h2> Some of the other highlights include James K. Reap, a professor in the Master of Historic Preservation Program at the University of Georgia who has a session on the US response to illicit trafficking. Art historian Lea Saint-Raymond is taking on “Gods at Auction: The Market for Himalayan Artefacts”, while lecturer of criminology at the University of Glasgow Emiline Smith is delving into transformative approaches to heritage ownership and repatriation. Helena Arose of Antiquities Coalition and Melina Antoniadis of NOSTOS Strategies that specialise on the return home of cultural heritage as well as Hao Liu of International Cultural Heritage Law at the School of Law at Shandong University are some of the others attending. The Nepal Heritage Recovery Campaign was set up in 2020 to develop a coordinated movement to reclaim Nepal’s stolen gods and goddesses, with an aim to ensure that recovered items are returned to their original shrines, niches or sanctums. Ahead of the conference opening organisers have arranged for a film screening of Loot &amp; Return: 4 Documentaries at YalaMaya Kendra in Patan Dhoka between 14-15 June. Following the conference is a multimedia exhibition titled Absent Gods: Nepal’s Lost Heritage from 31 July to 4 August at Patan Museum.

Priceless paubha in Paris

While Nepal was hosting the Sagarmatha Sambaad international climate conference in Kathmandu this month, on Mt Everest it was pretty much business as usual.&nbsp; The signs of climate breakdown are all there: a river now runs through Base Camp in summer, the Khumbu Icefall is more unstable, and there are more &nbsp;frequent avalanches. When expeditions arrived in March, the mountains were bare: it had not snowed since September, but then blizzards dumped unseasonal snow in May. And despite climate worries, such is the pull of Himalayan mountaineering that the Everest Industry showed no signs of slowdown. More than 600 international climbers and their Nepali guides had made it to the summit of the world’s highest mountain. At one point there were an estimated 2,000 people in the tent city on the Khumbu Glacier. All the ropes and ladders on the Icefall came down on Thursday, marking the official end of the spring climbing season, and just in time to avoid a monsoon cyclone approaching from the Bay of Bengal. It has been an action-packed season. One factor could be that Everest fees will go up from September: each foreign climber needs to pay a $15,000 royalty, up from the present $11,000. The cost for a Nepali climber on the South Col route will also go up: from Rs75,000 to Rs150,000.&nbsp; The fee to climb Everest in autumn is $7,500 (up from $5,500), but most climbers still prefer spring. Winter permit fee (December-February) is only $3,750 per person and the mountain is now also open for monsoon (June-August) climbs, when the fee is ever lower at $2,750. The revised rule also makes it mandatory for every two climbers on an 8,000m peak to hire one Nepali mountain guide.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025053004050_67f856fe52714e4bdcf21ae7d45c6f18c82117b9d0a5f73ed1efa04c96de1046.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025053004050_67f856fe52714e4bdcf21ae7d45c6f18c82117b9d0a5f73ed1efa04c96de1046" data-rendition-name="original" width="931" height="732" loading="lazy" alt="The Everest Industry graph 1"> </figure>  In addition, climbers also have to pay for porters and guides, equipment, Base Camp costs, Ice Fall and fixed rope team fees, so climbing Everest does not come cheap. But such is the draw of climbing the world’s highest peak that some say the increased fees will not diminish the crowds next year. The government has tried to spread expeditions out to other seasons and other 8,000ers, but with not much success. Earlier this year, Nepal unilaterally increased the number of 8,000m peaks to 14 by adding six more sub-summits to broaden the choice for climbers. Added were: Yalung Kang (8,505m), Yalung Kang West (8,077m) &nbsp;Kangchenjunga Central (8,473m), Kangchenjunga South (8,476m), Lhotse Middle (8,410m) and Lhotse Shar (8,400m).&nbsp; The announcement could go against the accepted topographic criteria that a stand alone peak has to be at least 300m higher than an adjoining prominence, and at more than 3km isolation from it. The UIAA (Union Internationale des Associations d'Alpinisme) still recognises only 14 mountains as eight-thousanders, and only eight of those are in Nepal, or on the border with China. Nepal’s revised mountaineering regulations also increased the insurance coverage of high-altitude workers to protect porters and high altitude guides who usually take more risks on the mountains. Rescue teams and clean-up campaigners to collect trash and remove bodies of dead climbers up to Camp IV of Mt Everest do not need permits.&nbsp; The Sagarmatha Pollution Control Committee is now using drones to fly down trash in 20kg sacks. Each climber is also required to bring down at least 6kg of waste and not just their own, but this rule is erratically enforced. With five fatalities on Everest and Lhotse, Spring 2025 had a historically low death toll. Another five climbers died on Annapurna, Kangchenjunga and Makalu.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025053004050_38681de22f0fefb6faa12b01755566d09c5064d0ff84e12ccc7b5d68ea9ba38a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025053004050_38681de22f0fefb6faa12b01755566d09c5064d0ff84e12ccc7b5d68ea9ba38a" data-rendition-name="original" width="665" height="740" loading="lazy" alt="The Everest industry graph 2"> </figure>  Journalist Ben Ayers who ran the Everest Live social media channel from Everest Base Camp with daily updates credited the low death rate to dramatic rescues of climbers from the ‘Death Zone’ by their Nepali guides and longline helievacs — the visuals all uploaded on YouTube.&nbsp; “Ironically, this perception of safety is bringing more and more inexperienced climbers to the mountain, and they need more rescues,” Ayers said in one of his dispatches.&nbsp; American expedition chronicler and summiteer Alan Arnette suspects there is a lot of under-reporting given that the jet stream and storms were lashing Everest even till late in the season. He told us: “I heard a lot about frostbite and rescues that were not made public. It’s become practically impossible to cover the details on Everest. All the teams report nice news, and they don’t talk about bad stuff to avoid hurting businesses.” Although trash on Nepal’s mountains makes headlines, what does not receive as much attention is the climate impact of so many expeditions. The Sagarmatha Sambaad conference sidestepped this issue, which is ironic given that the impact of climate breakdown is most evident on Himalayan peaks and their glaciers.&nbsp; <h2>Need for Speed</h2> The big stories this year have been about speed-running from their home cities to the top of Everest. Ukrainian entrepreneur Andrew Ushakov flew out of JFK on 15 May at 10:15AM Nepal time, and was on the summit 3 days, 23 hours, and 7 minutes later on 19 May at 9:22AM.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250601080640_1c5cc6fc991307861768f07037ed9d30930fb20f35dbb57dc31c9a92a9e1a885.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250601080640_1c5cc6fc991307861768f07037ed9d30930fb20f35dbb57dc31c9a92a9e1a885" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1800" loading="lazy" alt="The Everest Industry"> <figcaption>Andrew Ushakov at the summt. Photo: ELITE EXPED</figcaption> </figure>  “I could never find the time for the traditional 40-50 days of acclimatisation,” Ushakov explained matter-of-factly. His ‘Everest Sea-to-Summit’ climb was possible because he spent 400 hours in hypoxic sleep tents over the past four years in New York. However, Ushakov did use ropes already fixed, hired four Nepali guides, helicoptered to Base Camp, and used much more oxygen than an average climber. And after the climb, Ushakov was arrested at Kathmandu airport for being in possession of $20,000 of undeclared cash and spent a night in jail and fined $60,000.&nbsp; The other speedsters were Garth Miller, Alastair Cairns, Anthony Stazicker, and Kev Godlington, all former British Army commandos. They left London and summited five days later on 21 May, and flew right back. They also used hypoxic tents to simulate the thin air high on Everest.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250601080644_90c8dd5cc07b4b43f2989b1dc0c0650ab80f10ebb06680c25a6909c519957bd8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250601080644_90c8dd5cc07b4b43f2989b1dc0c0650ab80f10ebb06680c25a6909c519957bd8" data-rendition-name="original" width="810" height="668" loading="lazy" alt="The Everest Industry "> <figcaption>All four members of the Furtenbach team at the summit. Photo: Sandro Gromen-Hayes</figcaption> </figure>  But more controversial was their use of xenon gas therapy in a German hospital to ramp up the production of oxygen-carrying haemoglobins in their blood. Xenon is banned by the World Anti-Doping Agency for being performance enhancing in sports. Expedition leader Lukas Furtenbach said this rule does not apply to mountaineering, as it is not a regulated sport like swimming. Nepal has no rules about xenon, but the Department of Tourism said it was launching an ‘investigation’ to decide on future policy since it is difficult to ban xenon, but allow oxygen. The controversy has also divided the mountaineering community, with some climbers saying they just want to maximise their chances of survival. Spending less time on the mountain could make climbing safer by reducing avalanche risk. It would also mean less trash on the mountains, but it would reduce the income of Nepal’s expedition industry. It is also unclear how much of the success was due to xenon therapy and whether the ex-special forces were already in good physical shape.&nbsp; The need for speed hides the fact that climbing in the Himalaya is dangerous business, and climbers cannot sprint to the top just by huffing xenon. But ultra-fast climbs could be charged more, and the revenue generated can be used to establish state-of-the-art rescue operations, and increase pay and insurance for guides. Two other speed chasers this season were Swiss-Ecuadorian Karl Egloff and American Tyler Andrews, both on Everest without oxygen. Andrews choppered to Base Camp to catch a weather window, but turned back from 8,500m due to high winds. Heavy snow and wind also forced Egloff to descend from 7,000m. Slow and steady climbers like Anja Blacha from Germany did make it to the summit without oxygen, while Kami Rita Sherpa broke his own record with his 31st Everest summit as he led a 26-strong Indian Army group. There were 468 permits issued for foreign climbers from 48 expeditions to Everest this spring. Nepal’s other eight-thousanders together had only 17 expeditions. Nepal has more than 1,000 peaks above 6,000m, and has opened only 476 of them for climbing.&nbsp;

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