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 Some months after beginning my research, I heard there was a collection of historical documents held by Goswara Tahvil.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

<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/waiting-for-bipin-joshi" target="_blank">Nepali student Bipin Joshi</a>, who was taken captive by Hamas on 7 October 2023, was not on the list of those freed following the end of the bombardment and fighting in Gaza.&nbsp; On Monday morning, the Israeli military notified Bipin's family and Nepal’s ambassador to Israel Dhan Prasad Pandit, that there is no evidence of him still being alive. However, Nepal's Foreign Ministry is yet to be notified by Israel's government of Bipin's status. The news came three days after a US-brokered ceasefire between Israel and Hamas came into effect, and hostage and prisoner exchanges by the two sides started Monday morning.&nbsp; Almost 2,000 Palestinians held in Israeli prisions are expected to be released by Israel in exchange for the hostages during the next phase of the peace deal between the two parties, and the bodies of deceased hostages remaining in Gaza are also expected to be returned.&nbsp; Bipin Joshi was among a group of Nepalis who had arrived in Israel in 2023 just weeks before 7 October 2023 as part of a ‘learn and earn’ program to work and earn in kibbutz farms there.&nbsp; Along with other students Joshi had been working on a farm in Kibbutz Alumim in southern Israel near Gaza. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/war-in-israel-earthquake-and-grief-in-nepal">Ten Nepali students were killed </a>while taking cover in shelters near their farms in two separate attacks by Hamas fighters.&nbsp; Joshi’s colleagues, fellow Nepalis who survived the attack, recall gunmen lobbing two grenades into the bunker that they had taken cover in. Bipin hurled one of the grenades out, they say, but the other one exploded, killing and injuring Nepalis inside. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Shortly after, Bipin was captured by Hamas along with a Thai national and led away into Gaza. CCTV footage showed Bipin alive and at a hospital in Gaza on the day of the attack itself after he was taken hostage.&nbsp; Thirty-one Thai citizens, who like Nepalis worked in farms in Israel, were taken hostage during the Hamas attack, the highest number of foreign captives in October 2023.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/deft-diplomacy-freed-thai-hostages">Deft Thai diplomatic engagement</a> with officials from Iran, Egypt, and Qatar brought about the release of 23 of its nationals in 2023. Five more Thai nationals were released earlier this year.&nbsp; In August, Joshi’s family visited Israel at the invitation of the government and urged the international community to push for his return. Bipin’s mother Padma and sister Pushpa have been at the United Nations to lobby for his release.&nbsp; His family last week also released a video clip of Bipin briefly speaking on camera, reportedly obtained by Israel and said to be filmed in November 2023, around a month after he was taken captive. Joshi looks healthy in that video.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251013091028_d551c7f88204c52217152fb5db655bb5a5f8bf2cff1e6a055326ebf64453ff9f.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251013091028_d551c7f88204c52217152fb5db655bb5a5f8bf2cff1e6a055326ebf64453ff9f" data-rendition-name="original" width="2848" height="1528" loading="lazy" alt="Bipin Joshi NT"> </figure>  More than 67,000 Palestinians have been killed during the last two years of the genocide in Gaza. About 1,200 people were killed during the Hamas attack on 7 October 2023, while more than 251, including Bipin Joshi, were taken as captives.&nbsp; This is the third ceasefire implemented in Gaza since 7 October 2023 after previous ones in November 2023 and January 2025. This 20-point deal facilitated by intermediaries US, Qatar, Turkey, and Egypt included terms for Hamas to give up its arms, and for a devastated Gaza to be governed by a Palestinian body of independent technocrats, while Israeli troops will withdraw in stages from Gaza.&nbsp; Hamas has agreed to relinquish control of Gaza, but has rejected the demand for disarmament, saying the group will demobilise but is prepared to resume fighting if Israel breaches the ceasefire.&nbsp; Following the ceasefire, Palestinians in Gaza have begun long journeys back to homes reduced to rubble by Israel’s two-year assault on the strip. The flow of humanitarian aid in the city has also increased following the peace deal.&nbsp; Israel's closure of humanitarian corridors in the past months had blocked the entry of food and medicine into Gaza, causing widespread famine. The United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA) has said that the restriction of aid into the beseiged city has left as many as <a href="https://www.unrwa.org/newsroom/news-releases/gaza-unrwa%E2%80%99s-lancet-study-reveals-alarming-surge-child-malnutrition">54,600 children acutely malnourished</a>.&nbsp; Meanwhile, US president Donald Trump landed in Israel on Monday as hostages were being released, and world leaders are expected to head to Egypt for an international summit to discuss the next steps in Gaza, Israel, and West Asia.&nbsp;

Nepali hostage in Gaza not alive: Israel

In the very first page of the first chapter of Nepal 2043: The Road to Prosperity are two maps. The first places Nepal right at the epicentre of Asia, and in the second the Kathmandu is at exactly the midpoint between Mumbai and Beijing. With his trademark optimism, author Sujeev Shakya says Nepal is not land-locked but land-linked to three billion people in China and India. We just need those two economic engines to pull us in the same direction. ‘With China and India becoming the two largest economies in the world in the next two decades … Nepal is the most valuable piece of real estate in the world,’ Shakya writes. For one thing, Nepal does not look beyond India and China for tourism — with the right policies it can attract millions of tourists just from those two countries. Nepal is set to graduate from a low- to a middle-income country by 2026 and to a high-income country in 2043 — hence the name of the book. The year 2043 in the Bikram Sambat calendar is also 2100 — a new Nepali century. The book delves into the past, present and future of Nepal and analyses enablers including hydropower, a fundamental transformation of which will drive the 2043 goal. The commoditisation of electricity will be the biggest transformation. Nepal can deploy ‘Cyber Gurkhas’ to attract foreign investors with the management of data centres with climate friendly renewable energy. Access to technology such as precision agriculture, a data-driven approach to farming to improve food production, reduce environmental impact and enhance profitability could be Nepal’s strategy into 2043 and beyond. ‘Earlier, we needed ploughs and strong hands in agriculture. Now, you need a computer and strong fingers,” Shakya writes, citing a neighbour’s son who inspects his crops from drone cameras. A farmer in an Ilam teashop tells the author he asks AI questions in Nepali, and it answers promptly. The biggest enabler of all is Nepal’s young demography with 62% of the population in the active 15-60 age bracket, while 28% are younger than 14. Nepal’s dependency ratio has dropped to the lowest in history with 100 Nepalis having to support 62 dependents. But this demographic dividend window is closing. Nepal’s total fertility rate declined from 2.62% in 1981 to 0.92% in 2021 — below replacement level. We have less than 30 years left to make the best use of the youth, many of whom are currently studying and working abroad. Nepal’s biggest resource, therefore, is its diaspora spread across the world who send home $20 billion a year. Migration is not just a necessity but an aspiration for many Nepalis, and they are an important source of contacts, investment and soft power. This young and educated group has taken advantage of connectivity and digitisation in all arenas of national life. TikTok and Instagram have become e-commerce platforms, or mobile app-riven digital services. Nepal’s software companies exported over $1 billion worth of IT products last year. Next we need a change in the bureaucratic mindset to eliminate paper and manual processes, which would also contribute to reducing corruption. Shakya comes up with many revelations: 81% of Nepalis live in houses they own, much higher than most other South Asian countries which means higher disposable income. Nepal has the highest tax-to-GDP ratio in South Asia. The banking sector is twice the size of Bangladesh despite Nepal having just one-fifth of its population. In 2021, 12.62% of the population had demat accounts in Nepal, while India had only 5.32%. For every five male investors, there are four women in Nepal while it is 10:1 in India. With such figures and prospects, how come Nepal just went through a violent uprising that took the shortest time to topple a democratically-elected government in modern history? One early chapter of 2043 is actually dedicated to how Nepalis have always thrived on chaos. When people faced up to 20 hours of power cuts a day, people worked around the load-shedding schedule, woke up at ungodly hours to cook and stock up on inverters. They did not put up a fight, or even protest. ''Generally, Nepalis are used to taking things lying down, and perhaps this also needs to change,' says Shakya, writing that line before last month’s uprising. ‘On the one hand, some of these issues speak volumes about the average Nepali’s patience and perhaps optimism that things will change in the long run. On the other hand, one is also forced to wonder how much longer they will be able to put up with unfavourable conditions if things don’t change.’ It does seem Nepali had enough with corruption, governance failure and political apathy to the concerns of ordinary people. The final chapter lists the non-negotiables to realise the 2043 Nepal Roadmap: democratic values and freedom of speech, a capitalist welfare state and socio-political transformation to tackle corruption and impunity. The book notes, ‘Countries transitioning to democratic rule experienced a 20% increase in GDP over a 25 year period compared to what they would have achieved under authoritarian regimes. After the end of the Shah rule in 2006, Nepal’s GDP rose from US$10 billion to US$44 billion by 2024.’ The government’s Vision 2030 document projects Nepal’s GDP at US$100 billion, and the Vision 2043 estimates that it will be a US$423 billion economy with a per capita of US$12,100. However, it will need more than optimism and practical action to make these projections real. China and India loom large throughout the book with examples of small city states like Singapore which have taken advantage of their strategic location. Despite the tension between India and China, the two will have to collaborate given the inherent advantages. China has replaced the United States as India’s biggest trading partner. Sujeev Shakya is a great admirer of former Singaporean diplomat and author Kishore Mahbubani, and he has written a blurb for the book. He quotes Mahbubani saying that for the past 2,000 years, apart from the last two hundred, Asian countries have dominated the world, and it is quite natural that the world’s economic centre is returning to Asia. And Nepal is strategically placed to make the most of it because of its location between two of the world’s fastest growing economies. We just have to get our politics right, and have a strategy for equitable growth in the new Nepali century.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251016091052_78b2d1495d59cd492a17693e0e770b65230c7cb749393ac6643f4676b73832ef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251016091052_78b2d1495d59cd492a17693e0e770b65230c7cb749393ac6643f4676b73832ef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Sujeev Shakya book details NT"></figure>

Retrofitting Nepal for future shocks

In the aftermath of the GenZ protests last month, as new PM Sushila Karki chose the first members of her Council of Ministers, youth collectives urged that it reflect the country’s diversity by including women, youth and people from various ethnic and socio-cultural backgrounds.&nbsp;
It took another couple of weeks for Karki to include &nbsp;bureaucrat and public health expert Sangeeta Mishra as &nbsp;Health Minister in her next tranche of ministers. Almost immediately, people dug up a video of Mishra calling herself “Nepali, but a native Indian”.
She was telling it like it was: Mishra is a naturalised Nepali citizen. But there was outrage in the ultra-nationalistic cybersphere. Mishra’s name was withdrawn from the list of ministers, with government officials citing an ongoing investigation at the CIAA.&nbsp;
With her Cabinet still incomplete a month after taking office, Prime Minister Karki was preparing to induct GenZ as ministers. A leak in the media floated the names, one of which was of Tashi Lhazom, a climate activist and filmmaker from Humla’s Limi Valley.&nbsp;
Almost immediately, social media erupted with discriminatory, xenophobic and misogynistic epithets against her: that she supported a separatist movement, that she was a foreign agent, that her citizenship was disputed, that she did not ‘look’ or ‘speak’ like a Nepali.&nbsp;
Political figures like Gyanendra Shahi, a prominent voice calling for the restoration of a Hindu monarchy, added fuel to the fire by making bigoted and false remarks about her heritage.
The former Commissioner of the National Human Rights Commission, Mohna Ansari, wrote on social media that it was shameful to question Lhazom’s identity: ‘Ms Tashi Lhazom is as Nepali as you are. Our society’s ugliest face and biggest flaw is doubting our own. Real patriotism embraces diversity — fake nationalism must end.’
Ansari, a human rights lawyer and activist, has also often been subject to Islamophobic and derogatory comments on digital platforms. &nbsp;
In response, the Indigenous GenZ Collective released Lhazom’s Nepali citizenship certificate to debunk the mistruths spreading on digital as well as mainstream media.
What makes a Nepali? What does a Nepali look or sound like? Who is a Nepali?
‘Had my name been Tashi Poudel, Thapa, Bhattarai or Ghimire, this would not have happened,’ Lhazom said in an interview with Kantipur following an avalanche of bigotry against her. ‘They questioned me because I do not look Nepali, or speak Nepali like a Khas. Because it is not my mother tongue.’
It is an indictment of Nepali society that indigenous Nepalis have to present proof, at the slightest inconvenience of mostly the dominant groups, of being a citizen of this nation simply because they might not fit into an imagined idea of Nepali nationhood by virtue of physical appearance, speech, geography, or faith.
And while we celebrate the successes of Nepal-born naturalised foreign citizens (some now hold elected office in the US) we refuse to afford the same respect to naturalised Nepali citizens, and those born in Nepal to excluded groups, nor do we expect them to work in the national interest if they are given responsibility to govern. And women are singled out twice as much for scrutiny.
Then cyber Nepal went into a tizzy when videos appeared of a biker’s group clad in black t-shirts emblazoned with the acronym ‘TOB’ which was interpreted to stand for ‘Tibetan Original Blood’ and linked to the Free Tibet movement.
The accusations snowballed into disinformation, xenophobia, and even calls for violence against Nepalis of Tibetan heritage and the Tibetan community in Nepal.&nbsp;
In the aftermath of the September protest, the hope was that politics and the bureaucracy would finally be rid of orthodox political actors. But first, we as a nation need to collectively examine the biases and bigotry that exist in Nepal’s socio-cultural space.&nbsp;
Otherwise, Nepal’s multiculturalism will be limited to just words in the Constitution and political tokenism.
No one who is in government now or in future can be expected to be completely free of subjective opinions, ideology, affiliation to a cause, or prior activism. And such criticism falls disproportionately on activists, advocates, and members from underserved and underrepresented communities.&nbsp;
One cannot be apolitical and hope to participate in politics, and as we move forward to rebuild the system it must not just reflect diverse communities, but also celebrate diversity of thought and beliefs.&nbsp;
Resorting to ethnocentrism, racism and chauvinism with conspiracy theories and discriminatory dog-whistling about fellow citizens is a disservice to Nepali nationhood. It is Nepal’s diversity that makes us strong.&nbsp;
Shristi Karki

What makes a Nepali?

Nepali Times: You just climbed Mt Everest without oxygen and then skied down the mountain. How does one even train for something like that?&nbsp; Andrzej Bargiel: What made skiing down Everest possible was all the years of experience I’ve gained in high-altitude mountains. Spending a lot of time in the high mountains helps me read the snow, the conditions, and potential hazards. I need to ski often, especially in steep and exposed terrain, so that it becomes a place where I feel completely at home.&nbsp; I also climb regularly, I am an IFMGA mountain guide. I also run, ride a bike, and work out in the gym. Like in any endurance sport, I have to prepare my body for the demands of an expedition.&nbsp; What motivated you to do Everest? This was actually my third attempt on Everest. After many years of ski mountaineering and racing, I felt it would be great to use that experience to take on a meaningful project in the Himalaya. It’s about exploring what’s really possible, testing my limits, and seeing how far I can go. I was inspired by people like Davo Karničar, Fredrik Ericsson, and Hans Kammerlander, who showed that skiing in the high mountains can truly be done.&nbsp; What do you have to be most careful about when skiing at such high altitude? You really have to manage your energy well, because you need to be ready to spend many hours at very high altitude — even above 8,000 meters. Risk management is essential. You have to read the signals nature gives you and make the right decisions, choosing safe moments to move. The dangers are always there: avalanches, crevasses, extreme fatigue, and exposed terrain, so you have to stay fully aware and focused. Safety comes first, always. You also need to stay open to changing your plans, because in the mountains, things don’t always go the way you expect.&nbsp; Why did you choose autumn and not spring?&nbsp; Autumn is really the only season when you can think about making a full ski descent from the summit all the way to base camp. In the spring there’s much more ice left after winter, and the snow cover is broken. A full descent simply isn’t possible then, because too much rock and ice are exposed. Of course, in spring it’s easier to climb the mountain. The conditions are more stable, the snow is firmer, there’s less avalanche risk, and you don’t have to wade through deep snow. The autumn ascent is very complex and demanding, which is why so few expeditions attempt it. But in autumn, skiing becomes possible. Several meters of fresh snow fall on Everest’s slopes, covering the rocks and ice, and that transforms the mountain into something wild, beautiful, and most importantly skiable. What was your favourite part this time? The moment I remember most fondly was reaching the summit — and that first stretch just below the top, when I clicked into my skis and started moving down through surprisingly nice snow. It felt smooth and natural, a kind of free, easy glide down toward the Hillary Step. I could feel the movement, the flow, and at the same time this awareness that I was skiing from the highest point on Earth. It was just a really good feeling. The Icefall was another special moment. I felt from a skier’s point of view that it really worked. I could make my turns, and the descent itself was fun, technical, but a beautiful one too — full of variety, weaving through ice towers and seracs that looked incredible in the sunlight. It was challenging, but also just pure joy.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251015141012_e9e671e07b089a7d59e4b9ba34df993180ae2dfcae3786113a4d48c515427b3d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251015141012_e9e671e07b089a7d59e4b9ba34df993180ae2dfcae3786113a4d48c515427b3d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1365" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="Andrzej Bargiel NT"> </figure>  And what was most challenging? The hardest moment came on 14 September, during our first summit push attempt. We were breaking trail in deep snow and reached the South Col in the evening. I already knew we wouldn’t be going higher that night, so I decided to stay there, to use the climb to acclimatise.&nbsp; But after that attempt failed, the team completely lost faith that the project could still succeed. Almost everyone started packing up, convinced it was over, nobody thought that the snow would stabilise enough.&nbsp; I skied down from the Col early the next morning in really good conditions, while the rest of the team descended on foot. Rebuilding belief within the team that it could still be done was the toughest part, mentally. It took me several days to bring that energy and motivation back, to make everyone believe again that we could try once more. What was your support crew like?&nbsp; I want to thank the whole team — all team members from Poland, all those who contributed to the project, all the sponsors, and the Seven Summit Treks crew, especially Dawa Sherpa, who had the courage to go to the top with me.&nbsp; In the end, his courage made it possible. Doing it alone would have been almost impossible. With him there, I felt safe, and that made all the difference. What potential for skiing do you see in the Himalaya?&nbsp; Huge. There’s massive potential here both for ski touring and for a more recreational form of skiing. In the Himalaya, there are so many mountains you can ski from, and they don’t have to be eight-thousanders.&nbsp; There is an incredible amount of snow even in the lower valleys during the winter, which makes it a really interesting place for skiing. You can find great powder and enjoy long, wide runs.&nbsp; The key, I think, is to keep developing local guiding structures. There should be more certified guides in Nepal, Sherpas gaining guiding qualifications, and a proper professional rescue service. That would definitely increase the sense of safety for both skiers and tourists coming to the mountains. I’d love to come back to the Himalayas one winter just to ski in those lower parts — in deep snow, on much longer and wider skis – that would be pure pleasure. At those lower altitudes, the fun can be so much greater, with a more relaxed, freeride kind of feeling.

historical-documents

Bureaucratic hurdles in researching Nepal's bureaucracy

Saving Nepal’s archives from oblivion

Nepali hostage in Gaza not alive: Israel

Retrofitting Nepal for future shocks

What makes a Nepali?

The man who skied down Everest