The Supreme Court order last week to press criminal investigation against former House Speaker Agni Sapkota for his alleged involvement in abduction and murder of Arjun Bahadur Lama in 2005 has opened the door to investigate other war crimes. Lama was 45 years old in 2005 and a UML member when he was abducted by Maoists. His body was exhumed two months later. A National Human Rights Commission report implicated Maoist leaders including Sapkota who commanded the guerrilla unit in Kavre. Lama’s wife, Purnimaya, filed a complaint at the Kavre District Police Office in 2007, but police refused to register it, stating that it should be forwarded to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC). She then filed a writ at the Supreme Court, which in 2008 ordered the police to register the complaint. The case was under police investigation and an arrest warrant issued, only for the Cabinet led in 2012 by Maoist Prime Minister Baburam Bhattarai to shelve the complaint and the Supreme Court’s order. But last week’s ruling led by Chief Justice Prakash Man Singh Raut overturned that decision, allowing &nbsp;the investigation to proceed. In all this time, Sapkota has served as Minister of Information and Communication in 2011 and Minister of Forest and Soil Conservation in 2015. Despite being accused of murder, Sapkota was nominated as Speaker of the House of Representatives in 2020. "My husband never brought harm upon anyone, why did they committed such a heinous crime against him?" said Purnimaya Lama at an event this week. "I will wait my entire life for his murderer to be punished to the full extent of the law." The Comprehensive Peace Accord between the Maoists and the government in 2006, envisaged the formation of a TRC and a Commission of Investigation of Enforced Disappeared Persons (CIEDP). When finally set up in 2015, both commissions were headed by political appointees, and there were no investigations or prosecutions. Last month, after prolonged discussions, the three main political parties selected former high court judge Mahesh Thapa as the TRC chair and former chief secretary Lila Devi Gadtaula to head the CIEDP. The two appointments and &nbsp;membership have been criticised by survivors and their families. They said there was no consultation, and the selection was arbitrary, untrustworthy, and disrespectful. “Transparency was lacking during the appointment of the officials at the commissions and the officials appointed are not competent in transitional justice issues,” says Suman Adhikari, Founder Chairperson of Conflict Victims Common Platform. The CPA marked the beginning of Nepal’s transitional justice process and formally brought an end to decades long Maoist insurgency. TRC and CIEDP were set up to ensure justice for the victims of the conflict. But the two commissions were formed nine years after the ceasefire because the two former enemies had by then become the state and did not want war crimes to be raked up. The 2015 earthquake became the pretext for delaying the appointment of the first group of commissioners, and Covid pandemic became the second. The inability of the three main political parties to agree on appointments meant the commissions stayed vacant for years. Both the commissions have also had their mandates extended since 2017. There are over 60,000 complaints registered at both commissions, of which 63,000 wartime excesses were at the TRC and 3,300 cases of disappearances at the CIEDP. But not a single case was investigated, and the perpetrators brought to justice. International human rights agencies have repeatedly called for amendments in the acts of the commissions, which have been endorsed but lack implementation.&nbsp; Says Ram Bhandari of the National Network of the Victims of Serious Human Rights Violations: “The implementation of the acts is in limbo. A major concern is that political leaders have tried to take the process ahead single-handedly.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025061212060_11e8b9f431e1cf23e4199128d2c037a5ed8edb09448c99b5f3c3f425ed9712d6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025061212060_11e8b9f431e1cf23e4199128d2c037a5ed8edb09448c99b5f3c3f425ed9712d6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1250" height="856" loading="lazy" alt="Remembering not to forget war crimes NT"> <figcaption>Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala and Maoist leader Pushpa Kamal Dahal shake hands after signing the Comprehensive Peace Accord in 2006. Photo: SAGAR SHRESTHA / NEPALI TIMES ARCHIVE</figcaption> </figure>  Just as the Maoists and the &nbsp;parties they fought against are now in Parliament and are a part of Nepal’s democratic system, families of victims whose kin were killed by both sides have now also united in their call for justice for war crimes.&nbsp; For example, Suman Adhikari’s father Mukti Adhikari, who was a teacher in a village school in Lamjung, was executed by Maoist guerrillas in 2002. Ram Bhandari’s father who was also a teacher was disappeared by the Army in 2001 from Besisahar. The Supreme Court in 2020 upheld that there cannot be amnesties for serious crimes like torture and enforced disappearances as per international law. Nearly 1,400 people were disappeared by both sides during the 10-year conflict, and 322 cases of war rape and of sexual violence have been registered in both commissions. “Cases of sexual violence must be registered three months post the issuance of the notice, not from the date of incident,” states Geeta Rasaili of the Conflict Victims National Women Network. “Such cases must be treated with utmost sensitivity, ensuring the victims’ protection of identity. This can be done only by capable and experienced personnel.” Much like everything else, transitional justice in Nepal is political. Successive governments since 2006 have been made up of former rebels who committed war crimes and Nepali Congress (NC) ministers who were in power during the insurgency, and this has undermined the process. “The key decision makers in the government from both sides are the same people who were involved in human rights violations during the conflict,” says Ram Bhandari. “The peace process has therefore become perpetrator centric, rather than victim centric.” Suman Adhikari echoes this view: “Instead of being answerable and responsible towards the victims in the justice process, the leaders have instead been looking to protect their own interests. Our voices and representation have largely been ignored, the leaders have been continuously trying to delay, dilute and deny the process.” After 2006, the peace process was steered by the United Nations Mission in Nepal (UNMIN) which supervised camps to disarm and demobilise the guerrillas. Initially, there was strong financial support and political pressure from Western countries and rights groups for Nepal’s transitional justice process.&nbsp; But with America backsliding on democracy and human rights and Europe increasingly distracted by the Ukraine-Russia war, the West has lost much of its moral high ground.&nbsp; This has coincided with the rise of emerging global powers, China and India, in Nepal’s neighbourhood who have never been big on human rights and freedom of expression. At its current pace, it may take decades to resolve all the 67,000 cases registered in both the commissions — which suits the NC and Maoists fine since time is on their side. However, the lethargy in sanctioning reparations and investigations will further erode public trust, and risk a future resurgence of violence fuelled by vengeance. Rights activists recommended that rather than compiling and making bulky reports of cases, they should be sent to the attorney general in batches with periodic reports. But there is little political will to even do this.&nbsp; Says transitional justice expert Rajendra Senchurey: “The process of investigations, truth-seeking and archiving must be expedited. Reparations also must be fast tracked alongside.” &nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612110656_6462e7168ada9450dd629a5063fcb45686e91b1884bb62f3ff2cf4f6c088037f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250612110656_6462e7168ada9450dd629a5063fcb45686e91b1884bb62f3ff2cf4f6c088037f" data-rendition-name="original" width="988" height="443" loading="lazy" alt="Remembering not to forget war crimes NT"> </figure>

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Remembering not to forget war crimes

This week it will be 29 years since the Maoist faction of the Communist Party of Nepal launched its armed struggle against <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/if-birendra-was-alive-nepal-could-still-be-a-monarchy">Nepal’s constitutional monarchy</a>. It had been just six years since the People’s Movement had forced <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/preserving-king-birendra-s-family-home">King Birendra </a>to abandon the absolute monarchy of the partyless Panchayat system. But the Maoist party felt that parliamentary democracy was too slow a process to end entrenched <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/feudalism-to-federalism">feudalism</a> in the country. They give Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba, who was on his first term as prime minister, a 40-point demand and an ultimatum to fulfil them. There was no way many of those demands could be fulfilled in stipulated time, and Deuba went off to New Delhi on a state visit. The Maoists did not even wait till he returned to launch armed attacks on police stations in Gorkha, Rolpa and other districts. At first the rulers in Kathmandu did not take the attacks seriously, and treated it like an ordinary law-and-order issue. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-geopolitics-of-nepal-s-politics?fbclid=IwY2xjawEuOktleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHcCK3p7P-idPc6TBvU9rJebDNgb7ANxs2mx508KjmiGBQDCxk77FUhBRow_aem_j0MdlBmrAbqvY_AFnwKx1A">The geopolitics of Nepal’s politics…</a>, Shristi Karki But, as we know from history, the violence spread like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/wildfire-season-starts-early-in-nepal">wildfire across the country</a>. With light weapons and low morale, the police were incapable of dealing with the spreading insurgency and added fuel to the fire with their own atrocities during the ‘Kilo Sierra’ operations. The Maoists attacked the Royal Nepal Army for the first time in 2001, five months after the royal massacre and the fighting intensified. Many of the incidents of this frightful decade in Nepal’s history is included in Dhangadi-based journalist Dirgha Raj Upadhyay’s book द्वन्द्व पत्रकारिताको एक दशक. One of the chapters deals with Prime Minister Deuba’s own providential escape during a Maoist ambush on his motorcade at Pahalmanpur on the highway to Surkhet in 2003. His bodyguards and the driver of the vehicles risked their lives to save him. Deuba was the chief guest at the recent launch of Upadhayay’s book in Kathmandu, and with him on the podium was Lekhraj Bhatta, the former Maoist commander of Seti-Mahakali area (pictured). In his speech, Bhatta echoed what the Maoists had said after the ambush, that the attack was a mistake and not aimed at Deuba. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/14-years-after-conflict-no-closure-in-nepal">14 years after conflict, no closure in Nepal</a> When his turn came to take to the podium, Deuba retorted: “It is a mistake to shoot anyone during a ceasefire. It was a mistake to resort to violence.” The exchange showed that the memories of the 10 year conflict are still fresh, 19 years after it ended — however much the two opposing sides try to bury their excesses. Enemies are now the state, and have abandoned the bullet for the ballot but many Nepalis are asking whether the ten years of carnage was worth it. Upadhyay’s book is a documentation of some of the greatest battles and loss of life in western Nepal during the conflict and after. He describes in graphic detail a government that was confined to district headquarters, but not safe even there. A terrified populace sought safety of the cities, or migrated to India. Maoists asked for ‘vias’ to enter their base areas, soldiers at security posts doing strict checks rudely interrogated civilians. Reading all this takes us back to the decade of violence and conflict that left scars on the nation and society. There are descriptions of reporters being helicoptered into army bases while Maoists fired mortars nearby, of attending a Maoist meeting which dispersed on hearing gunships flying overhead, the battle of Pandaun, a field report of villages terrorised by both sides in Accham. As the regional member of the Federation of Nepalese Journalists (FNJ) Upadhyay was called upon to mediate on behalf of journalists like Lucky Chaudhari in Kailali or Dekendra Thapa in Dailekh. Chaudhari was released by the Army, but Thapa disappeared and his body was exhumed after the war ended. He had been buried alive after torture. And he covered the death in custody of Maoist journalist Krishna Sen. The end of the war did not bring peace, and Upadhyay had to work to free journalists jailed and tortured after King Gyanendra’s coup, including Nagendra Upadhyay. Like many war correspondents, much of this work was dangerous. And Upadhyay writes in his book: ‘The Nepali public relied on journalists for correct information. But who do we journalists rely on for our safety?’ The book draws attention to the fact that in most modern wars, it is the civilians who are caught in the crossfire. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/all-is-fair-in-war-and-peace">The Maoist conflict</a> happened before social media spread, and both sides craved sympathetic coverage in the press. It was perhaps expected that the Maoists, as a rebel force, would force reporters to write as instructed. But what was not acceptable was that the state and its security forces being democratically elected and adhering to the rule of law would also respect basic human rights and not use the media as a propaganda tool.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025020210024_6d026854835f6ede3b8d275165346dd70a948cf6bbf67c0e1c8671a6b3e680e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2025020210024_6d026854835f6ede3b8d275165346dd70a948cf6bbf67c0e1c8671a6b3e680e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Book details"> </figure>

29 years since start of Maoist war

After I joined the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16458">United Nations Mission in Nepal (UNMIN</a>) in June 2007 as the Language and Admin Assistant, I was assigned to the Arms Monitor section in Nepalganj. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14221">UNMIN</a> was established by the UN Security Council after the end of the Maoist conflict to monitor and implement the Comprehensive Peace Accord of 2006. Aside from other peacekeeping work, UNMIN maintained and administered <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17163">demobilised Maoist guerrillas</a> in seven main and 21 satellite <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17020">camps across Nepal</a>.
My main role in Nepalganj was to assist the international Sector Commander during meetings with various officials in the Mid-western region, including CDOs of various districts, politicians, security personnel from the police and army.
The first meeting of the Jordanian Sector Commander was at the Nepal Army barrack in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bardia-s-birds">Bardia</a>. Our group consisted of 9 people from the Arms Monitor section from various countries. The Jordanian’s English was easy to understand but the accents of others was harder to comprehend.
Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lost-in-translation"> Lost in translation</a>, Alisha Sijapati
We received a warm welcome from the Nepal Army, and the Battalion Commander explained the situation in the area, and gave us a tour of the base. I was nervous, but thought I had handled the interpretation well enough. Following the meeting, the soldiers served us breakfast.
Inside the personal dining room of the Battalion Commander, I noticed sandwiches, sliced mangoes, Coke, toast, jam, and butter laid out on the table. As we were getting ready to begin, a soldier approached the Commander and whispered something in his ear. The Commander then looked at me and asked, “लोकल कुखुराको मासु र चिउरा खान्छन् कि सोध्नु त?”
I turned to the Jordanian Sector Commander and was relaying the question but got stuck, “Would you like to eat local chicken with...”
Looking back at the Commander I asked: “चिउरालाई के भन्छन् अङ्ग्रेजीमा?” He found it hilarious that I did not know what चिउरा was is in English, and said, “Bitten Rice, हैन त?” He responded as if I had confirmed his unofficial translation. I then finished my sentence to the Sector Commander, asking whether he would like local chicken with “bitten” rice.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/mai-commin-sir-qfdjg2uw">"Mai commin, Sir?"</a>, Anbika Giri
Being an interpreter was fun because of gaffes like that that are funny in hindsight. The international staff of the Arms Monitor section were friendly, and were understanding of my difficult sometimes interpreting their English accents. They spoke in brief, simple sentences to make it easy for me.
After the ‘bitten rice’ episode, one day our team was being led by a Swedish military officer for a meeting with the Senior Superintendent of the Nepal Police. We arrived at his station, but he was not there because his force had been busy evicting members of the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16873">Maoist Young Communist League (YCL)</a> from a house where they were occupying.
Luckily, both sides resolved the situation through dialogue, and the tension subsided. After meeting the YCL leader, we wanted to get the Police’s side of the story. When the SSP finally arrived, he looked preoccupied and we began promptly once he took his seat.
Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19640">"If I were to tell you everything I know about Prachanda ..."</a>
As I was translating his lengthy introduction of himself into a more concise version, I mistakenly referred to him as a Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) rather than an SSP, which seemed to upset him. He asked me to repeat his full introduction correctly, including details about his long and illustrious career.
I quickly apologised and translated his introduction accurately. The Swedish army officer was seated across from him, jotting down notes. The SSP could read his English notes, and instructed me to tell the Swede to write down everything. (“मेरो पुरा परिचय लेख्न भन”)
I told the SSP politely that I was just the interpreter and could not tell the UNMIN officer what to write and not to write in his notebook. The short meeting ended, and the SSP insisted again that I tell the Swedish army officer to add a few more sentences of his introduction to his notes, and not just write ‘SSP’. (“एक दुई वाक्य थप्न भन्नु । ठ्यास्स एसएसपी मात्र त के लेखेको ।”
I held back my laughter because there was no way I could translate “ठ्यास्स” into English. There just is not an equivalent word, and it would need a whole sentence to get the thought across: “Perfunctorily just jot down the bare minimum and get it over with”, or words to that effect.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/from-humiliation-to-humility">From humiliation to humility</a>, Anbika Giri
Having a limited English vocabulary, making tons of grammatical errors, and feeling nervous were even more challenging when meeting politicians. It was hard to figure out where politicians put full stops and commas in their sonorous speeches.
Once in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/northwestern-tip-of-nepal-Humla,3430#google_vignette">Simikot of Humla district</a>, I was interpreting speeches at a gathering of over 100 members from various political parties. Everyone spoke passionately as if it was their last chance to be heard. I struggled to understand the local dialect – this was northwestern Nepal, and I am from the southeast.
The subject of the speeches was the rehabilitation of those <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/the-lingering-trauma-of-war">forced to flee during the Maoist insurgency</a>. A young man, who seemed agitated, was yelling loudly. I stepped in to translate that his family had been forced from home due to the conflict when he was just 16. He was sent to Kathmandu for further education while his parents stayed in a rented house in Nepalganj.
Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=13684">Youthful rivalry</a>, JOHN NARAYAN PARAJULI
All this was fairly easy to translate, but then he began angrily criticising a leader of the Maoist Party, using rude language. How could I translate such words into English? Besides, I did not even know the English equivalent of those local swearwords.
“मेरो कुरा अङ्ग्रेजीमा भन्दिनु” thundered the man in a menacing voice, asking me not to leave anything out. The Sector Commander asked what the man was going on about, and I told him I did not understand and apologised, while the man kept interrupting and accused me of not translating his tirade, and being biased.
I finally told the man: “तपाईंको गाली मलाई अङ्ग्रेजीमा भन्न आएन। गाली ट्रान्सलेट गर्न आको हो म?” (I cannot translate your curses. Am I here to translate your profanity?)He shouted back (expletives beeped out): “किन जागिर खाको त ? बाउको सोर्स होला... beep... beep... beep..” (Then why were you hired? Your Dad must know someone…)
I moved on to next person in the audience and completely ignored him. However, today as I think back at that day in Humla his angry words still ring in my ears. I wish now I could have told him that I got the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17292">UNMIN</a> interpreter job because a friend had heard about the opening and I filled out the UN’s complicated P11 application form. My Dad had no idea what I was getting into.
Anbika Giri is a novelist and author of children’s books in Nepali. Angrezi is her monthly column in Nepali Times about learning English in Nepal. Read earlier instalments of Angrezi, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/from-humiliation-to-humility">here</a>.

Me, the Interpreter

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150232/63fe114c9c7e80680e0da4d3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1104"/><figcaption>Maoist child soldiers in a corn field in the Tarai in 2004. PHOTO: DAMBAR KRISHNA SHRESTHA/A PEOPLE WAR</figcaption></figure>On <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/13-february/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">13 February 1996</a> the Maoist party decided to take a shortcut to power. It abandoned mainstream politics and the democratic system, and instead adopted a path of violence to cleanse Nepal of ‘class enemies’. They did get to power, but at an immense cost to the people.Over 17,000 Nepalis were killed, thousands of children orphaned, women widowed. The 1990 Constitution failed. Violence, hatred, suspicion spread, democracy was threatened.The violence propelled the Maoists to power with a landslide victory in the 2008 Constituent Assembly election, but the path of peaceful politics was not easy for a party that believed political power came out the barrel of a gun.In consecutive elections since 2008, the party got fewer and fewer votes. At the current rate, its political future is bleak at best.The 1990 Constitution empowered Nepalis, and monarchy had to relinquish its absolute powers. The elected legislature was supreme, and it was alive and vibrant. The judiciary and the Supreme Court were many times more dignified than they are today.The Nepali Congress (NC) emerged as the biggest party in the 1991 general election, while Unified Marxist–Leninist (UML), back then only called Marxist–Leninist, also established itself as a formidable force.The United People’s Front of Nepal (UPFN) chaired by Baburam Bhattarai won only nine seats -- two of them were Krishna Bahadur Mahara and Lila Mani Pokhrel.The UPFN realised that it was going to take a long time to defeat the NC and UML through elections. Inspired by Mao Zedong, they felt Communists must wage an armed struggle.In the intervening years, the party split and a militant faction led by ‘Prachanda’ led the Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist) to launch the armed struggle on 13 February 1996 against ‘feudal forces’.They were ambitious, and the armed conflict was a quick way to power by playing into contradictions between the NC, UML and the Palace. Police high handedness in cracking down against the rebels drove more people into the Maoist fold.I was the editor of Deshantar  weekly, and from day one had no sympathy for Maoist violence. Many of the 40 demands in the ultimatum Bhattarai presented to Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba on 1 February 1996 were impractical and populist.But the Maoists had found the right time to strike while the iron was hot. The Palace, which had ruled for 30 years, had been forced to give up its absolute power in 1990, and there were hardliners unhappy about it. The UML was not clear about its ideology, either.Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/ghosts-of-war/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Ghosts of war</a>, Sonia Awale<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150236/63fe11509c7e80680e0da4d4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1111"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Then there was India. While the Maoists played the nationalist card by voicing anti-Indian sentiments in Nepal, across the border they got support and weapons training, the Maoists felt special and they now had to prove themselves.The use of ruthless violence in a society that had not witnessed such bloodshed was a rude shock. The Maoists did not just kill people, they made them suffer and circulated the news widely. Terror was used as a weapon to terrify people.I remember one case in Sindhuli, where they accused a man of exploitation and killed him by crushing his knees with boulders. Such brutality worked because it had a multiplier effect in instilling fear. They robbed banks which increased their resource base.Their main target was the NC, especially its grassroots leaders. They initially did not harm the UML, which they regarded as fraternal Communists. This gave Maoists more access, since the UML was leading many local VDCs.The 1997 by-election also benefited the Maoists since it was a hung Parliament and the NC and UML got Surya Bahadur Thapa and Lokendra Chanda Thapa of the rightwing RPP to take turns being prime minister, and gave people the feeling nothing had changed.But NC won the majority in the 1999 election, which was a major setback for the Maoists. Girija Prasad Koirala, a staunch anti-Communist, became Prime Minister. By this point, the Maoists had started attacking the UML too, because of their local support.The Maoist tactics were straight out of Mao’s Red Book: start by capturing remote parts of the country, and cut them off. They extorted villagers and raised levies, and those who did not pay were made examples of: either killed, tortured or publicly humiliated.One of the most tragic examples of this was the case of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6369#.Y-XIii8w1KM" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Muktinath Adhikari</a>, a teacher from Lamjung who was executed in 2002 by the Maoists. In Okhaldhunga, where I come from, another teacher was dragged around the village and tortured until he died, and his body was hung from a tree next to his school.In another case, bank staff transporting money were looted. I wrote an editorial in Deshantar saying this was not a revolution but daylight robbery. In response, Janadesh, a mouthpiece of the Maoists, carried an interview with Baburam Bhattarai in which he said I should be buried alive in the same hole dug up to bury Girija Prasad Koirala.Later, as editor of Himal Khabarpatrika, we were clear about our support for democracy, non-violence and pluralism. And we never used the word ‘terrorist’ to describe the Maoists.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150236/63fe11549c7e80680e0da4d5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="591" height="800"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>When the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/the-turning-point-dunai-17-years-later,3980" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Maoists attacked Dunai</a> in 2000, the first raid on a district capital, Yubaraj Ghimire, editor of Kantipur, chartered a helicopter to the site before even the state could do a proper survey. The next morning, pictures and testimonials of terrified villagers made it to the front pages in Kathmandu.This became a trend. The attack on Naumule in 2002, and images of piles of dead bodies got similar coverage. I also used to assign photographers who were going with the dailies. But we were still not getting the real story, we were just counting the bodies. We felt we needed more independent reports, not propaganda from both sides.For example, we bought 7 photographs of the Dunai attack in which it was clear that the Maoists were using child soldiers. The young boy was carrying a light machine gun. After it was published, the Maoists for the first time were defensive before the international community. They had previously denied ever recruiting children.But we needed to do more, and especially to show how the conflict was affecting ordinary people. So we kept up with as much field reporting as possible when the Maoist attacks escalated. Other media were also doing in-depth coverage from the war zones.The Maoists then started countering this with their own perspective in the same newspapers. They sponsored trips for journalists to their ‘base areas’. After the Royal Nepal Army entered the war in 2002, it started doing the same.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150236/63fe11589c7e80680e0da4d6jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1236" height="829"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In 2004, the Maoists had taken a group of journalists to one of their mass meetings. The news and photographs were published in all major dailies, they all said 15,000 people had come to listen to the Maoist leaders.Because we were a fortnightly magazine, we had a few more days to verify, so we went with 10,000. That evening before the magazine went to press, the reporter asked me to change it back to 15,000 because of the fear of repercussions from the Maoists. We went with 15,000, but after that we stopped accepting conducted tours.By the peak of the war in 2000, the Maoist ambition was to oust both the NC and UML and ally with the Palace such that the king would head Narayanhiti and the Maoists Singha Darbar. This in turn heightened the ambition of the Palace, and its direct impact was on its reluctance to deploy the Army against the Maoists despite Girija Prasad Koirala pushing for it.Koirala and other leaders asked the palace to mobilise the Army, but the palace would not budge. Nepal Police had only 25,000 personnel armed with 303 S. They were no match for the politically motivated and battle-hardened guerrillas.But as the conflict escalated, the political parties were unable to circumvent the Constitutional provision that required the king to mobilise the army, and set up the Armed Police Force (AFP). The Maoists continued their offensive, and attacked the AFP, even killing its first chief Krishna Mohan Shrestha. Yet, the Army would still not intervene or even equip the AFP with proper weaponry.No one knows how things would have turned out if the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18246" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Royal Massacre of 2001</a> had not taken place, and the entire family of King Birendra wiped out. In the beginning, King Gyanendra continued the same policy, but then in 2002 he went a step further, declared political parties incapable, and took absolute power.The Maoists were encouraged by this move, it brought them closer to their power-sharing deal with the Palace by excluding the democratic parties. The NC split over the decision to call a state emergency, and the UML was also divided.Through all this, New Delhi still supported the monarchy, which gave Gyanendra the confidence to consolidate his authoritarian moves. But the Europeans and Americans entered into the picture, and given the strategic value of Nepal, saw the India-monarchy tie-up to their detriment. So when the West showed its hand, India backed off, and that was the downfall of Nepal’s monarchy as well.The Maoists could not take over the country with the force of arms, which was why there was a ceasefire in 2006. The insurgency did make Nepalis more aware of their rights, and the Maoists provided a platform for suppressed groups who were easy recruits. Doors did open for women, Dalits and excluded ethnicities, but in a real sense class, caste and ethnic  divisions still exist.In every other sense, the conflict ravaged Nepal and its people. It destroyed dreams and lives, it set back development. We would have achieved better results and sooner with peaceful democratic evolution.After the 1990 People’s Movement, Nepal’s economy grew and there had been real hope for the future. Local elections had started to bring up accountable leaders. If this had been allowed to continue, Nepal would have been a different (and better) place today. The Comprehensive Peace Accord in 2006 was not an agreement, but a compromise.But perhaps the biggest impact of the conflict was on the politics that followed. Today, Parliament is a farce, the Supreme Court has no dignity, and there is no real federalism. The younger generation is growing up with no knowledge of the Maoist conflict. Impunity is rife because those who committed atrocities have gotten away with it. As a society, we have become more intolerant.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/transitional-injustice-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Transitional justice</a> is now synonymous with hypocrisy. The commissions mandated with delivering it have been taken over by politicians. The Maoist conflict has eroded not just democratic institutions, but the state itself. We must not forget to remember what the war did to Nepal and its people.In the last 30 years we have made dramatic progress in some areas, but did we need a Maoist conflict for that?It is easier to look at the positive aspects, and move on from painful memories. Ask the survivors and the relatives of the victims. If we must say there were some achievements of ten years of war, then we must also admit that there were bigger losses that are still being felt.Rajendra Dahal is the former editor of Deshantar and Himal Khabarpatrika, and is now editor of Shikshak magazine.Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-unpunished-war-crimes/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal's unpunished war crimes</a>, Sabita Adhikari

All is fair in war (and peace)

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203d59c7e80680e0b282bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640"/><figcaption>Bhakta Bahadur Regmi with Rabin and Rabina in Kathmandu last week speaking about a traumatic tragedy 20 years ago that changed their lives. All photos: MONIKA DEUPALA</figcaption></figure>It was exactly 20 years ago that Rabina Regmi and her brother Rabin were travelling with their parents when their bus was attacked with petrol bombs by Maoists along the East-West Highway in Sarlahi.As the fire spread, the driver lost control and the bus toppled over into a ditch. Rabina, aged 5 and Rabin, 3, and their mother, Anju, were the last to be rescued.All three suffered severe burns, and a video taken at the time shows the two children huddled around their mother, crying and in shock.Anju died after two weeks of pain and agony in a hospital in Raxaul. Rabina had burns all over her face, her hands and stomach. Rabin had burns on his face, a gash on his head, deep cut on his leg and his left hand was broken. Two other passengers also lost their lives in the attack.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2681#.Yd3XUy8w3u1">Rabin and Rabina</a>, Nepali Times<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203d89c7e80680e0b282cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="632"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203db9c7e80680e0b282djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203de9c7e80680e0b282ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203e19c7e80680e0b282fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="162" height="462">After Nepali Times reporter <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4138#.Yd01MmhBxPZ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D4138%23.Yd01MmhBxPZ&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642003161641000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3xCd8ewhrV9Mu4ia5bOtYQ">Naresh Newar’s story</a> appeared in this newspaper in 2002 (left), the tragedy came to represent the face of a meaningless war, and there was an <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10418#.Yd01s2hBxPZ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D10418%23.Yd01s2hBxPZ&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642003161641000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0k9ll2ElmCFl161aiP0SgQ">outpouring of support from readers</a>. Sushma Koirala Memorial Hospital offered <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4485#.Yd01uGhBxPZ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D4485%23.Yd01uGhBxPZ&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642003161641000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2vHaXELYbwVRMJ58aPNrLT">reconstructive surgery to the children</a>, and Bright Horizon Children’s Home and School took responsibility for their education till college.“Telling their story was important because there wasn’t enough coverage on how the war was affecting children,” says Naresh Newar. “The Maoist were attacking public spaces without regards to who may be affected from their actions, this story showed the victim’s side of story.”Newar followed up with the family numerous times and is grateful for the positive impact it had for the family. The last time he met them, the siblings were happily settled in at the school.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q1fsjRXaEHUThe Regmi family's tragedy and ordeal was depicted in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nation-sibling-war-juna-rai,731">A People War</a>, a photo book trilogy curated by Kunda Dixit and featured in Kesang Tseten and Prem BK's documentary <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2009/10/27/a-state-of-lawlessness/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Frames of War</a> (clip, above).   Now aged 25 and 23, Rabina and Rabin still bear scars from the tragedy, but are determined to not let their past hold them back. Rabina is a final year BBA student at Global College of Management and wants to get into banking. Rabin is doing his BSc in Agriculture from Chandigarh University. After the campus closed last year due to the pandemic, he in Kathmandu attending online classes.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4138#.Yd3XSS8w3u1" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Why the children?</a>, Naresh Newar<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203e39c7e80680e0b2830jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203e69c7e80680e0b2831jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640">Their father Bhakta Bahadur Regmi is a forest ranger stationed in Hetauda, the same job he had 20 years ago. He is grateful for all the help his children have got over the years from the school, hospital, and others, but says it has been two decades of struggle without their mother.There has been no help from the state. “Everywhere we go, they ask for identification cards proving that we are conflict victims. But we don’t have any papers to prove that,” he says. Even today, he carries a folder of newspaper cuttings and old medical records of his children.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203e99c7e80680e0b2832jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640">The Truth and Reconciliation Commission was mandated to provide identification cards to conflict survivors, and inform them about investigations into war crimes. But without political connections, and no time to scour many government offices, Bhakta Bahadur and his family have been left to fend for themselves. The attackers were never identified and did not have to answer for their crime.For the past 20 years, Rabina and Rabin have needed numerous operations to heal their wounds, including reconstructive and orthopedic surgery, laser treatment, even hair transplant. The fees for surgeries are waived or subsidised, but the cost of travel, medicines and hospital stay add up.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12867#.Yd3XRy8w3u1">New life</a>, Naresh Newar<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203ec9c7e80680e0b2833jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="640">In 2015, when Rabina was getting another of her laser treatments for burn scars, the Indian blockade led to a shortage of medicines. “The doctors had to perform the procedure without anesthesia and it was very painful,” recalls Bhakta Bahadur. Later, her wounds got infected and she had to get it treated again. Rabin has not had laser surgery due to financial constraints.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/psychological-scars-%20of-maoist-conflict-on-young-survivors-take-longer-to-heal,1519" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Post-conflict stress syndrome</a>, Taylor Caldwell<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203f09c7e80680e0b2834jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="161" height="242">At Bright Horizon, the siblings aced their studies. Rabin passed his SEE with a GPA of 3.85, the highest from his batch. Rabina was also a good student, and the school is still helping them with college fees, while their father struggles to cover other costs.The first year Rabina was at the boarding school, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12867#.Yd0szmhBxPZ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D12867%23.Yd0szmhBxPZ&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642003161641000&amp;usg=AOvVaw1HzBsDJ5lqZZQWUUsNOHQp">she ran away</a>. “I did not know anyone there and I missed home,” she says. “But later, it became our home. Both of us made life-long friends there.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203f29c7e80680e0b2835jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="161" height="242">Bhakta Bahadur describes Rabina as the calm one. Rabin on the other hand was a mischievous little boy. He says, “Both of them felt at home at Bright Horizon, when I went to pick them up during holidays, they’d refuse to come home saying their mother wasn’t there.”Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4485#.Yd3XUS8w3u1" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Rabina and Rabin in hospital</a>, Naresh NewarAt school, Rabina made it a point to look out for her brother. Every time Rabin got into fights with his friends, his elder sister would come to his rescue. Today, the two share their hopes and dreams, supporting each other and hope to take care of their father who has sacrificed all to raise them.Weary of the country’s situation, Rabina now wants to go abroad for her MBA. Rabin wants to complete his MSc and then try for the civil exams. “The two of us came to the conclusion that one of us should go abroad and the other should stay back,” says Rabin. “We have seen how much difference having a family member abroad makes for the economic wellbeing of families.”Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10418#.Yd3XTy8w3u1" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Rs 199,349 for Rabina and Rabin Regmi</a>, Nepali Times<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637203f59c7e80680e0b2836jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="363" height="242">Having brought up the children on his own, Bhakta Bahadur still worries about their future. But he is happy the two have become responsible young adults ready to take charge of their own lives.Rabina says with determination, “We have had to depend on our father for so long. Now, we want to look after him, and our family.”Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=13966#.Yd3XSi8w3u1">Remembering hell</a>, Nepali Times<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/burning-in-the-aftermath,3757" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Burning in the aftermath</a>, Sahina Shrestha

Sahina Shrestha

The scars of war

After the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10616#.YV7B7tVBypp">decade-long Maoist conflict</a> ended in 2006, ex-guerrilla commanders and local governments here saw great potential for <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15759#.YV6VzNVBypo">‘war tourism’</a> in the revolutionary heartland.These craggy and remote mountains of mid-western Nepal were where the Maoists launched their armed struggle in February 1996, and many obscure villages like <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/the-spark-that-lit-the-Maoist-revolution,2870">Holeri, Khara and Gam</a> became household words because of the famous battle that raged there.More than 15 years after the war ended, the former guerrillas have been in and out of government many times and have earmarked a budget every year to take the region ‘<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/340/Nation/13344#.YV6Xs9VBypo">from Maoism to tourism’</a>. The idea is to use the historical memory of the conflict to honour the sacrifices of those who died in the insurgency, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15759#.YV7BkNVBypo">generate income from trekking tourism</a>, and create local jobs. In the past 15 years, the central government alone has spent Rs500 million to promote ‘war tourism’. But the money has mostly been doled out to the cadre of the Maoist Centre party, which is once again a member of the coalition government in Kathmandu now.<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14230#.YV7BftVBypo">Rolpa today</a> is as neglected as ever, former guerrilla commanders who are in government have not done much to provide health and education, or lift the living standards of the people in whose name they fought a war of liberation.An example of the enormous waste of money is a safe house in Rolpa in which Maoist Supreme Commander Prachanda (Pushpa Kamal Dahal) once sought shelter in 2001 during the conflict. In 2019, the local infrastructure initiative spent Rs10 million to renovate this house ostensibly to turn it into a museum. The mud and thatch two-storey house belongs to the brother of Maoist leader Jayapuri Gharti, and another of her brothers was made the chair of the project. The money was used to purchase the house and build a metal structure to shelter the shelter from the elements.“All that money was spent for nothing,” says Anil KC, a Maoist from the Biplav faction. “They brought some journalists here and took some pictures. I don’t think any tourists have come this way.”   Of the 17,000 people who were killed in the conflict, nearly 1,000 were from <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6187#.YV6i09VBypo">Rolpa district</a>. And 35 of the 1,380 people still listed as missing are also from the district in which the Maoists launched their armed struggle on 13 February 1996 with an attack on the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/end-of-war-is-not-peace/">Holeri police post.</a> <figure><img width="512" height="384" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d181f9c7e80680e0ac7a5jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>A functionless cement welcome gate erected at enormous cost in 2016 in Thawang, the village that was a stronghold of the Maoists during the conflict. Photos: MAHESH NEUPANE </figcaption></figure>Right after the conflict ended, the Ministry of Peace in Kathmandu allocated Rs1.1 million to build a ‘martyrs gate’ in Holeri that would also <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5571#.YV6jbtVBypo">commemorate the first Maoist attack</a>. There is no sign of the gate today.“There was a gate here, but since so much of the money was embezzled during its construction, those involved demolished it, saying they needed to widen a road,” says the mayor of Runtogadi Balaram Buda. In 2011, the district administration allocated Rs 17 million for nine projects to develop trekking infrastructure in Rolpa. After the 2017 election, municipal, provincial and federal governments have paid out more money to build rest houses, repair trails and construct view towers along the paths that the guerrillas used.   Similarly, the Peace Ministry had doled out Rs1.86 million seven years ago to construct a memorial to Maoist commander Khim Thapa in Sulichaur. It was never built.  <figure><img width="512" height="384" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d18219c7e80680e0ac7a6jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“I remember before I was elected, some bulldozers were levelling the site, but I have no idea why the park was never built,” says ward chair Ganj Chhetri.In April 2001, 44 Maoists were killed in a fierce battle in Pategumchal of Rolpa. Seven years ago, the Ministry of Peace allocated Rs1.55 million to build a memorial column at the site of the battle.A cement shed and latrine were built, but they are not usable. After pressure from local people, a committee headed by Nar Bahadur Pun finally built a makeshift gate.The village of Gam of Rolpa district made national headlines in 2002 after <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6167#.YV6jXNVBypo">a fierce battle that killed 35 Maoists</a> and left 106 police and civil servants dead. There is a ‘martyrs’ pillar’ to commemorate the battle, but it looks abandoned. “All they did was steal the money meant for those who died, they just built this to show they did something,” says local Deu Gharti Magar.The municipality got another Rs3.2 million to build a ‘martyrs’ memorial peace park’ under the chairmanship of Maoist Centre leader Ramesh Buda. It was also never built. Local Maoist leaders are uncomfortable when asked about where all the money went.Another Rs3.2 million was given to a committee to build a martyrs’ memorial park in Jankot. Some of it was used to buy the land, but nothing was built, and it looks like the rest of the money has vanished. <figure><img width="512" height="384" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d18239c7e80680e0ac7a7jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Despite questions about how building martyrs’ gates and pillars will help promote ‘war tourism’, budget outlays have continued to local committees for projects that lack any utility. And even the money set aside to build those memorials is misused, or simply stolen.In Dubi Danda of Rolpa, Rs2.5 million was given between 2011-2015 to build a park, but all that was done was construct a makeshift shed and the site levelled to make a helipad. It is the same story in Gangadev municipality – Rs3.2 million was given to a local committee that hired a bulldozer to clear the slope, and nothing was built.  In 1999, police captured 11 members of a Maoist cultural troupe in Bhawang, executed them and burnt the bodies. The Peace Ministry allocated Rs2.5 million to build a memorial for them, but today there is just a shed ringed with barbed wire at the site where the guerrillas’ bodies were set alight. <figure><img width="512" height="384" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d18259c7e80680e0ac7a8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In numerous other places, money has been given to local Maoist cadres to build parks, but aside from a memorial in Thawang, either nothing was ever built or whatever was constructed has no tangible value to the public. Altogether Rs12 million was given for park projects in Iribang, Gajul and Thawang. “They have exploited our grief and bereavement to enrich themselves,” says Dev Bahadur Oli, whose brother Sundar was killed by the security forces in 2002. “The money is just a handout to the party cadre to rent dozers, it is not transparent at all.”Rolpa ranks 67th out of Nepal’s 77 districts in the Human Development Index (HDI). The district needs better schools and more hospitals, roads and bridges need to be upgraded, and people who lost their jobs during the pandemic need help. Yet, all three levels of government keep wasting money on physical monuments that have no public service function – even if they are built. Khem Buda Magar, who headed the now-defunct District Peace Committee, says it is not just the misuse of state resources to build so-called parks and memorials, but such projects have failed to honour those who died or were disappeared, and their relatives feel they are also forgotten.   Rolpa’s elected representatives see much potential in trekking as tourism rebounds after the Covid-19 pandemic. In fact, all local governments have put trekking tourism top on the list of priorities. In the 2018-19 fiscal year, Madi, Paribartan and Thawang municipality spent altogether Rs4.5 million for so-called ‘tourism development’. In addition, Lumbini Province in this year’s budget allocated Rs20 million for tourism infrastructure in Thawang. <figure><img width="347" height="462" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d18279c7e80680e0ac7a9jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Even the Ministry of Tourism and Civil Aviation under the federal government has granted Rs7.5 million for the ‘Guerrilla Trekking Trail’ along the Jaljala mountain. Of this, only a 1.8km path has been built by a local committee in Jelbang.Rs4 million was also given to Thawang for a ‘Yarsa Trekking Trail’ that follows the paths used by yarsagumba pickers. The municipality only built a 2.5km trail with the money, but it is not used much, says Thawang resident Sri Kumari Roka.“It is a trail to nowhere, why should anyone walk on it?” she asks.  <figure><img width="512" height="288" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d18289c7e80680e0ac7aajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Six of Rolpa’s local governments set aside Rs7.4 million last fiscal year for ‘war tourism’, and Lumbini Province allocated Rs5 million for the purpose.The whole town of Jelbang was supposed to be turned into a ‘model village’ to honour the 73 Maoists who were killed there in 2001, by helping their relatives. The Peace Ministry even granted Rs2.8 million for the purpose. But it was all spent on road repairs, and the ward chair says that was a joint decision.“The money that came to build model villages ended up giving some Maoist leaders and cadre a model lifestyle,” says local resident Bharat Roka mockingly.A former Maoist camp supervised by the United Nations Mission in Nepal (UNMIN) in Triveni of Rolpa is being turned into a museum at a cost of Rs9 million. The project is headed by a local leader of the Maoist Centre Amar Dangi, who himself is related to Lumbini Province Chief Minister Kul Prasad KC.Another building in Thawang for a ‘Martyr Foundation’ was allocated Rs6.5 million, but it had been lying in its abandoned state until it was converted last year into an isolation centre for Covid-19 patients. <figure><img width="512" height="358" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d182a9c7e80680e0ac7abjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="334" height="512" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d182b9c7e80680e0ac7acjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Much of the rest of the money allocated for ‘war tourism’ is now being spent on building concrete view towers on mountain tops in Rolpa. Critics have questioned why mountain tops that are already very high need to be a few metres higher with these wasteful symbols. One such mountain is the 2,055m high Chuche Peak on top of which the local municipality is building a 10-floor 115m view tower at a cost of Rs48 million. Another view tower is sprouting near Holeri, the cradle of the Maoist revolution.All this construction is happening in a district where there are 200 government schools with nearly 70,000 students, but very few teachers. At Sunchahari municipality there are 5,000 students, the school buildings are rudimentary, and there is not a single secondary school teacher. The doctor-patient ratio in Rolpa is 1:25,000, and families have to walk for days just to reach a health post even for simple treatments for relatives.  Yet, all this does not seem to concern any of the three levels of government that have spent Rs30 million just on 90 <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15759#.YV7BkNVBypo">temples in the district.</a>One of the more useful projects has been the establishment of ethnic museums, with ones for Gurung, Magar and Dalit peoples. The Gurung Museum has exhibits and a homestay.  <figure><img width="512" height="243" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d182c9c7e80680e0ac7adjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Erstwhile Finance Minister Barsha Man Pun, who was once a guerrilla commander, inaugurated an ‘Information Centre’ and an ‘indigenous museum’ for the war tourism project 12km from the district capital of Libang. No one is using the building, and it is falling apart. The war tourism initiative was launched without any study or business plan. It has not been promoted adequately, and has just been an excuse to distribute money to Maoist cadre, says Amar Singh Pun, a former minister from Rolpa.He adds: “This has been a colossal waste of money, a pretext for cash handouts to party loyalists.” This report was prepared by Mahesh Neupane for <a href="https://www.hamropatro.com/date-converter">the Centre for Investigative Journalism Nepal</a>. The Nepali original can be found <a href="https://cijnepal.org.np/cij-10/">here.</a>

Nepal’s ‘war tourism’ is a scam

<img width="1169" height="747" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151120/636d08ca9c7e80680e0a603ajpeg.jpg" alt=""/>The Human Rights Watch (HRW) on Tuesday wrote a letter to Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba, urging him to uphold the rights of Nepali citizens and strengthen the rule of law.
Recent <a href="https://www.thelancet.com/action/showPdf?pii=S2214-109X(20)30345-4">reports</a> have revealed that the pandemic has decreased institutional delivery by half, increasing risks of premature birth, stillborn deliveries and newborn deaths, setting back Nepal’s past gains in maternal and child care.
Additionally, reduced family income coupled with prolonged school closures has pushed many Nepali children into labour, with projections that half of the girl students may not rejoin schools once they <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/half-of-nepals-girls-may-drop-out-of-school/">reopen</a>. Child marriages are on the rise.
“The new government should take measures to safeguard and continue progress on health and education, including through assistance for households whose livelihoods have been devastated by the pandemic,” says Meenakshi Ganguly, South Asia director at Human Rights Watch. “Safety nets are critical for ensuring that crises do not prevent children from continuing their education or harm progress on reducing child marriage and child labour.” 
The letter paid special attention to pressing human rights issues pertaining to Nepal’s failures in addressing war crime and transitional justice.
In 2015, Nepal formed the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and the Commission of Investigation on Enforced Disappeared Persons. A year before that in 2014, the Supreme Court scrapped provisions in the transitional justice law that allows amnesty for offences including torture, murder, and enforced disappearance during Nepal’s armed conflict. The law has not been revised.
Successive governments have stopped conflict-era cases from being heard in regular courts citing the supposed transitional justice process, even as victim groups and Nepali human rights organisations have long questioned its credibility. 
But their protests seem to have fallen on deaf ears, one of Deuba’s first acts in office was to extend the terms of transitional justice commissioners by another year.
“Successive governments have stalled on delivering justice to victims for the many grave cases of abuse, preferring to protect the abusers instead,” adds Ganguly. “As a result, abuses continue while principles of accountability, the rule of law, and the independence of institutions have been eroded, with negative consequences for everyone in society.”
Nepal has made little progress in investigations of human rights violations at home despite being re-elected as a member of the United Nations Human Rights Council. This has had a corrosive impact on wider principles of accountability and the integrity of institutions.
Of late, Nepal has seen a marked increase in alleged extra-judicial killings, custodial deaths allegedly from torture, and the excessive use of lethal force against protesters. In fact, the NHRC in October 2020 published a list of 286 suspects of serious crimes that included law enforcement officials, military personnel, and former Maoist insurgents that police had refused to investigate.
A culture of impunity has undermined the rule of law, there is no accountability for abuses of power. Instead, they continue to climb up the bureaucratic ladder, like the promotion of a police officer alleged to be involved in the extra-judicial killing of two men in August 2018. 
Justice and relief for survivors of sexual violence during the conflict is even more difficult to come by. On the other hand, families of six young Dalit men murdered in Rukum in May 2020 —among the deadliest instances of caste-based killings in Nepal, still await justice. Those linked to the death of a 12-year-old girl forced to marry her rapist in May 2020 have yet to be held accountable.
The HRW has also called on the Deuba government to reverse appointments made to independent institutions like NHRC and the Election Commission after the Oli government pushed an ordinance amending the law in December 2020 to allow only three members of the Council to make appointments.
There are numerous other pending challenges such as the 2006 Citizenship Act, provisions in the 2015 Constitution, and a draft citizenship bill that limits women’s ability to transmit citizenship through marriage. The bill is similarly discriminatory against Nepal’s transgender people.
The HRW also opposed restrictions on the freedom of religion, rights to peaceful assembly, expression, and association of Tibetan refugees in Nepal who have fled Chinese persecution.
Says Ganguly: “Prime Minister Deuba faces many pressing problems, but he also has an opportunity to craft a positive legacy. Meanwhile, Nepal’s international development partners should press the government for measurable action on accountability if they hope to achieve change.”

Nepal must work on human rights

<figure><img width="1440" height="798" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111152/636cd8b09c7e80680e092e57jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: SAGLO SAMAJ</figcaption></figure>Why is Nepal in a state of perpetual revolution? Why do leaders who have suffered and sacrificed so much for the cause of democracy let the country and people down as soon as they come to power. Two episodes of Himalmedia’s Saglo Samaj tv magazine program talks to civil society members, legislators and journalists to come up with answers. <h2>Binda Pandey, MP</h2> Women played a significant role in and had high expectations of the People’s Movement in 1990 against gender discrimination. <img width="1440" height="798" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111152/636cd8b39c7e80680e092e58jpeg.jpg" alt="">The 1990 constitution said that at least 5% of women needed to be elected to the House of Representatives and the National Assembly. By the time the second election of 1997 came around, at least one female candidate from each ward was required to run for office, as a result of which 40,000 women were elected to local bodies across the country.But the leaders who promised equality did not do much once they came into power. Citizenship laws were made even more restrictive than before 1990. We went backwards.Women guerrillas took up arms in 1996 when the conflict began . The state then realised that women could fight as well. The Maoist movement armed women with weapons. Women involvement in the armed struggle and the Second People’s Movement of 2006 sent a subliminal message that if women could carry guns, they could do anything. <img width="1439" height="802" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111152/636cd8b69c7e80680e092e59jpeg.jpg" alt=""><h2>Chandrakishor, Journalist</h2> The Nepal Sadbhavana Party was established after the 1990 People’s movement and fought in later elections. The party’s reach was small, but it represented and kept the basic tenets of the Madhes alive when mainstream political parties had failed to fulfil Madhesi aspirations. Nepali Congress leader Mahendra Nidhi realised that the party had just been using him as  token Madhesi.   <h2>Rita Sah, Activist</h2> Under the multi-party system, it looked like the needs of the Madhesi community would be addressed, among which citizenship was most important. The access of Madhesi party women to political parties increased under the multi-party system, as leaders like Sarita Giri, Renu Yadav, and Chitralekha Yadav, stepped into politics. But despite this the issues of the Madhesi community and women, in particular, have not progressed. <img width="1440" height="794" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111152/636cd8b89c7e80680e092e5ajpeg.jpg" alt="">It was the Maoists who for the first time raised the issue of inclusion, and the internal colonisation of the Madhes, which inspired Madhesi people to join the armed struggle, as did the Dalits and Janajatis for self-determination and self-governance. <h2>Dambar Chemjong, Tribhuvan University</h2> The 1990 movement did not promise the Janajati people anything. But the main demand of a multi-party system under a constitutional monarchy was met. After this the indigenous people demanded that they be able to establish political parties, but the Election Commission shot that down. The interim prime minister himself, during the 1991 general election, said that Janajati is communal, not political. <img width="1440" height="782" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111152/636cd8bb9c7e80680e092e5bjpeg.jpg" alt="">Because Nepal had been a Hindu state for a long time, laws based on religion had infringed upon the socio-cultural, linguistic, and religious traditions of the Janajati community. But the suggestion that Nepal become secular under the 1990 Constitution was not heeded.With the Maoist armed struggle, women, Dalits, Janajatis or other minority communities felt they were finally in positions of leadership, especially women as guerrilla leaders and commanders, gave a sense of equality and social justice. It gave the impression that the Maoist revolution had brought in a new phase of Nepali society by destroying old norms and belief systems.The Maoists promised a Magarat Autonomous Region, and heads of the Tamuwan, Kirat, Tharuhat, and Newa People’s government. However, these never materialised and the issues of the Janajati people were not addressed after the conflict. This leads me to believe that they were merely used as pawns in a political game.What did the oppressed get out of the armed conflict? At first glance, it seems like they got everything they were promised. But that is not the case. For instance, the naming of the federal provinces would have been a symbolic admission and acknowledgement of the state's decades-long oppression and exploitation of indigenous peoples. But that did not happen. <h2>Kailash Rai, Researcher</h2> After the end of the autocratic rule, many citizens got the opportunity to advocate for their rights, including the Dalit, Janajati, and Madhesi communities -- especially women within the Dalit Janajati community. Despite this, there is little participation of Dalit women in education, politics, and public discourse.    <img width="640" height="352" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111152/636cd8be9c7e80680e092e5cjpeg.jpg" alt=""><h2>Ganesh Biswokarma, Activist</h2> The Dalit community participated in the People's Movement, following which fundamental rights were guaranteed to the community in the 1990 Constitution. This included making untouchability and discrimination punishable by law and introducing positive discrimination. But no law was ever made to implement these provisions. <img width="640" height="352" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111156/636cd8c19c7e80680e092e5djpeg.jpg" alt="">The Dalit Liberation movement sought to end untouchability, make untouchability punishable by law, and create institutions to monitor untouchability. We also demanded that a National Dalit Commission be formed. Our demands have been met, but only as a formality. <h2>Durga Sob, Activist</h2> One of the achievements after the restoration of democracy was the freedom to speak about discrimination towards women, Dalit and Janajati communities. But there have been little to no changes in terms of education, employment, participation, ending untouchability, discrimination against women, and ending violence in the Dalit community. <img width="1061" height="594" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111156/636cd8c49c7e80680e092e5ejpeg.jpg" alt="">What is ironic to me about the armed conflict is, ultimately, what did we fight for during those 10 years? What did those 17,000 people sacrifice their lives for?  Many Dalits lost their lives during the conflict. But what was the use when the people of my community still have to live as untouchables?  <h2>Pradip Pariyar, Activist</h2> After 1990, the Dalit community moved to obtain the right to enter temples, demanded political representation and quotas in education. In 1991, there was only one Dalit MP. <img width="640" height="358" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111156/636cd8c79c7e80680e092e5fjpeg.jpg" alt="">This situation will persist until there is a transformation in leadership. More than 30 years later, the main players of the anti-Panchayat movement are still in leadership. If the same people remain in power for three decades, how can the country and the citizens evolve?The oppressed communities joined the armed conflict in 1996 because they had finally started to be seen and heard, and that gave them collective confidence. The Dalit, Janajati, Madhesi, and Muslim communities were led to believe that the Maoist movement would lead to them having their own state and that the conflict would bring about the end of discrimination and inequality.________________________ <h2>Collective or individual rights?</h2> <h2>Hari Sharma, Researcher</h2> I have seen momentous changes in my lifetime during the last 30 years since the First People's Movement. However, did these changes lead to genuine transformation of state structure and welfare of the people? There is cynicism and disillusionment in the public.The 1990 People’s Movement was purely for political freedom. However, the Constitution formed after the movement reflected that our national Nepali identity was diverse, and  that provided a framework for a liberal constitution. With the armed conflict of 1996-2006 we realised that the system was not able to fulfil Nepal development aspirations and that the rights that had been established after the first People’s Movement had not been translated into public policy, which led to a crisis in governance. By the time the Second People’s Movement of 2006 came around, the movement for identity had taken strong roots.The Maoists also used people’s search for identity strategically. But the biggest question that followed the Second People’s Movement and the subsequent drafting of the constitution was that of who would represent different communities--the members of their community or the mainstream political parties. At the root of the debate is whether individual or collective rights are more important.Fundamentally, the 2017 Constitution seems to prioritise group rights, like the proportional electoral system that we have adopted is conducive to collective identity. But one may not agree with or trust those who have been chosen to represent them. In that case, the beauty of democracy is that if the Constitution has not been implemented correctly, there is an institutional mechanism to rectify that.Nepal’s Constitution attempted to answer questions about problems in the representation of the Janajati community due to a lack of public policy, political accountability, and political responsibility. But instead of moving forward by defining it through public policy, we have been led to a constitutional crisis.Accountability is of the utmost importance in public policy and democracy as a whole, whether it is the accountability over the armed conflict or over daily services and facilities provided to the people. We fought so hard to have a system that holds our elected officials accountable, but that is limited to theory.Democracy has to be defended by vigilance. We might think that our work is done once we elect leaders into office, and the leaders might promise us that there is nothing more to worry about. But the universal truth is that as soon as people achieve any authority, they will become greedy and selfish in their quest for power.  <img width="1440" height="808" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111156/636cd8ca9c7e80680e092e60jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1440" height="803" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111156/636cd8cc9c7e80680e092e61jpeg.jpg" alt="">We have been fighting for party politics for so many years that we cannot imagine having a non-party democracy. Our political parties have evolved into syndicates, and as such, there will be no democracy in Nepal as long as there is no democracy or accountability within political parties. The irony is that we have protected our elitist structures in the name of protecting our old traditional values, while leaders exploit the state's resources even though they have similar resources at their personal disposal. Our resources, as well as the circle of our political elite, are both very small. So it is important that we look not just at the leadership but at the socio-cultural context behind the leadership.Even today, one of our four former prime ministers is likely to be the new prime minister. We seem to be at a standstill from a sociological point view. These four former prime ministers have been in leadership for the past 30 years.Over the last 20 years, I've been looking into a certain political party closely. It has not been able to expand its base, party membership is divided into factions and sub-factions. And unless it expands its support base, a certain subsection of the party will forever have a monopoly over all its resources.Democracy without political parties is unthinkable because we and our resources are under the stranglehold of those parties and their leaders. But ultimately, the people should be able to choose their leadership since there is little possibility to form new parties through social movements. And even though the country has been through transformational democratic movements in recent history, it is doubtful if Nepali society itself has become more democratic.Individual rights, individual responsibility, collective rights and collective responsibility must be merged because a society cannot be built without individual freedom. And there cannot be an independent society without an autonomous and independent citizenry. Our responsibility does not stop on the day that we cast our ballots. On the contrary, it is our responsibility to keep the egos of our leaders in check, to hold our leaders accountable, and to strengthen our voices.Nepal is a testament to the fact that democracy is characterised by diversity. A country that has no minority, no resistance, and where a select few have a monopoly over rights and resources can never be democratic. The politics of prohibition will always hinder the politics of pluralism.Based on Episode 11 and 12 of Saglo Samaj, a tv magazine program produced by Himalmedia which is broadcast every Monday at 8:30 pm on Dish Home Channel 130.

Nepal’s cycles of revolution

Nepal went through a protracted internal armed conflict from 1996-2006 after the Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist) launched a rebellion to liberate the country from feudalism and monarchy. However, serious human rights violations and abuses were committed by both sides: the state security forces as well as the guerrillas. Over 17,000 people were killed on both sides, and more than 1,300 people are still listed as missing. The families do not know whether they are dead or alive, or who was responsible for their disappearance. The Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) put an end to the conflict on 21 November 2006, with both sides agreeing to hold perpetrators accountable, and provide truth and justice to victims, including a commitment to investigate the whereabouts of those who were disappeared. However, 14 years after the ceasefire, these promises remain unfulfilled. This photographic project focuses on the families of the victims of the conflict to mark the International Day of the Disappeared on 30 August. My image making process involves a ‘family reunion’ in which people who lost family members are alongside projections of old family photographs which include missing family members. The passage of time, of existing and not existing, is layered within a single image. --- <h2>Rekha Bastola</h2> <figure><img width="1000" height="667" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7c99c7e80680e0737a3jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>All photos: GULIGO JIA</figcaption></figure>Rekha looks out her window while I was trying to capture her portrait, her nephew holds a backdrop from behind. This is the only picture of her husband that Rekha has. As Maoist commanders wanted by the government, their wedding was held secretly with only a few comrades attending. Four months after the wedding, her husband was arrested by security and never came back.Rekha brought up her husband’s nephews and niece. She remains single, believing that her husband will eventually come home some day. <figure><img width="460" height="661" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7cc9c7e80680e0737a4jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="440" height="293" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7ce9c7e80680e0737a5jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h2>Nijala</h2> <img width="1000" height="712" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7d09c7e80680e0737a6jpeg.jpg" alt="">Nijala sits in front a picture of her father, taken during a festival. Her father was captured twice by the security forces, and later disappeared for being a Maoist. She was just one year old. Her mother Rubi, thinking she would be next, went underground. After the 2006 peace deal, Rubi married again and gave birth to a boy. <h2>Bimala Dhakal</h2> <img width="1000" height="716" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7d29c7e80680e0737a7jpeg.jpg" alt="">Bimala Dhakal poses for a portrait alongside the projected photo of her husband Rajendra Prasad Dhakal who was a human rights activist in Gorkha, and was disappeared in 1999 during a trip to Tanahu. She looked for her husband everywhere, and was herself arrested and tortured by the army. She never found him. Bimala rarely talks about her husband in front of her children, only when something reminds her of him. <h2> Bibek Dhakal</h2> Bibek poses for a portrait alongside a photo of his father Rajendra Prasad Dhakal projected to the wall behind him. He was only nine months old when his father was disappeared in 1999. "Sometimes, when I smile or sing out loud, my mother tells me that I look just like my father," Bibek says. <img width="1000" height="714" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7d59c7e80680e0737a8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><h2>Maina Karki</h2> <img width="1000" height="665" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7d89c7e80680e0737a9jpeg.jpg" alt="">Maina Karki and her son sit in front a picture of her late husband, who was a sociology teacher in a government school. He was detained twice by Maoist guerrillas for refusing to give them a donation, and killed the second time. The police report said he has been shot four times. <h2>Narayan Devi Shrestha</h2> <img width="1000" height="714" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7da9c7e80680e0737aajpeg.jpg" alt="">Narayan Devi Shrestha poses for a portrait in front her husband’s picture in which he is in a Maoist party meeting. Her husband, brother and brother-in-law were all arrested and disappeared together. He was a district member of Lalitpur in Kathmandu, and eye witnesses said they had seen him pressed to the ground with a gun pointing at his head. <img width="626" height="875" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7dd9c7e80680e0737abjpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="585" height="878" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7df9c7e80680e0737acjpeg.jpg" alt=""><h2>Nagma Mali</h2> Nagma poses for a portrait in front of a picture of her father. Nagma's mother passed away while giving birth to her sister Swastika. Their father was abducted by the army when Swastika was three, and she had to support her little sister and her grandmother who was ill. Nagma now works for the Children of the Disappeared while studying for her bachelor degree. <h2>Swastika Mali</h2> Swastika stands in the garden of their home in Lalitpur. Swastika’s mother died while giving birth to her. Three years later, her father, Nanda Gopal, who was an artisan, was abducted by the army. After her father disappeared, Swastika was raised by her sister Nagma. <h2>Srijana Shrestha</h2> <img width="1000" height="713" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7e19c7e80680e0737adjpeg.jpg" alt="">Srijana sits in front of a picture of herself with her husband, Sanjay, who was a supporter of the Nepali Congress party. In 2001, Maoist guerrillas came into their home and shot her husband in the room. He died on the way to hospital. Theirs was an inter-caste marriage, and the couple had to escape to Pokhara to get married. <h2>Gita Rasaili</h2> <img width="1000" height="666" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7e49c7e80680e0737aejpeg.jpg" alt="">Gita poses for a portrait in front of a picture of her sister Reena. Gita and two of her brothers joined the Maoist milita when she was 14. One of her brothers died in combat, and her sister Reena, a student at that time, was raped and killed by the army in her own backyard. “What I feel is that we need to speak up for tomorrow,” says Gita. Since 2007, Gita has been working for people who were victimised during the war and on issues of women empowerment in Voices of Women in Media. <h2>Devi Sunar</h2> <img width="1000" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7e69c7e80680e0737afjpeg.jpg" alt="">Devi Sunar and her adopted daughter Maina in front of the picture of Devi’s late daughter Maina who was only 14 when she was tortured and killed by the army as revenge for her mother’s criticism of their involvement in the murder of her niece, Reena Rasaili. Accused of being a Maoist supporter, Reena was shot dead in her own backyard.  “Maina’s body has been in the hospital morgue for 17 years, and I will cremate her when she gets justice,” says Devi, who has founded the Maina Child Development Committee. <h2>Suman Adhikari</h2> <img width="1000" height="716" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7e99c7e80680e0737b0jpeg.jpg" alt="">Suman Adhikari sits in front of a family picture in which his brother and father Muktinath Adhikari are celebrating Tihar. Suman’s father was a teacher and human rights activist in Lamjung. He was accused of continuing to teach Sanskrit and for refusing to give donations to the Maoists cause. In 2002, a dozen Maoist guerrillas took him away from a class he was teaching, tied him to a tree, stabbed him in the chest, and shot him.Former Maoist leader Baburam Bhattarai has publically acknowledged that the murder was a “mistake”. No one has been punished or the crime.Guligo Jia, 30 is a Chinese photographer and documentary filmmaker based in Beijing, and was stranded in Nepal from February-July 2020. <a href="mailto:guligojia@qq.com" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">guligojia@qq.com</a>

The empty chairs

<figure><img width="1920" height="1080" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7b89c7e80680e07379bjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>All photos: SABRINA DANGOL</figcaption></figure>Bimala Dhakal’s husband Rajendra was a human rights lawyer in Gorkha, and had to go underground because the authorities suspected that he had Maoist sympathies. In 1999, he was arrested by police in Tanahu. It has been 21 years, and Bimala has not seen her husband since that day.  Police came after her, too. So she left her job and family and moved to Kathmandu with three small children. It has been two decades of raising her children as a single mother, while knocking on the doors of the police and the courts, as well as being herself arrested and tortured by the military.“The past is too painful to remember. I don’t think many can even understand the kind of pain I have faced,” says Bimala, who has almost given up hope of her husband ever returning.  Rajendra Dhakal is among the over 1,300 people officially listed as still missing from the 1996-2006 Maoist conflict. Since the end of the war, and even after <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Legalese/Justice-in-transition,458" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Legalese/Justice-in-transition,458&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1598605338367000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFRLbLjCJUh4TK46Qw1BuC61QXVZg">two transitional justice bodies</a> were finally set up in 2015, families of the disappeared have got neither truth nor justice.  The Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) and Commission of Investigation on Enforced Disappeared Persons (CIEDP) are staffed by political appointees, and all they have done in the past five years is collect testimonies and file them away in steel cabinets.<a href="http://nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/by-the-way/justice-adjourned-for-nepal-conflict-victims,454" target="blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Justice Adjourned</a>, Anurag AcharyaNew commissioners were nominated in January and have been rejected by conflict victim organisations. In April the Supreme Court ruled that the commissions could not offer blanket amnesty to those charged of serious human rights violations. Conflict victims have come to expect very little truth or justice from successive governments. The Nepali state today is made up of former enemies in that war, and although this has helped in the reconciliation process, it has come at the cost of justice for the families of the disappeared. Indeed, the ruling Nepal Communist Party is a merger of two parties, one of which is accused of murdering and disappearing leaders of the other till 14 years ago.Not having a missing relative present continues to be an ever-present pain. This burden of ambiguous loss is multiplied among thousands of families across the country who need recognition of their suffering, information on the fate of the missing relative, and support to get on with their lives. Because it was mainly men who were disappeared, it is the women who need help because of the added burden of social stigma.Because the government is no help, families of the disappeared and those killed by both sides have got together to form common pressure groups to demand justice. Mothers and wives of the disappeared in Bardiya have set up a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17396#.X0d8Uy8w3BJ">network of mothers and wives</a> of the disappeared.These days, Bimala watches Nepalis returning home from all over the world on the evening news. She says: “Deep down, I wish that maybe Rajendra could also come home like them.”  <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/article/nation/On-the-sidelines-of-justice,1594" target="blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">On the sidelines of justice</a>, Trishna Rana--Shanta Neupane’s husband Danda Pani was a member of the Maoist party. As the insurgency was intensifying in 1999, he was arrested by police put into a van and driven away. He has never been seen again.“In the days following his arrest, I visited the three main jails in Kathmandu. But I was told everywhere that my husband had never been arrested or detained,” Shanta says.The Supreme Court quashed her writ of habeas corpus on the same grounds that there were no records of Danda Pani ever being arrested.Shanta then opted for non-legal ways to seek the truth, organising a press conference and writing an appeal to the Parliament. But there was no word of her husband’s whereabouts.“My hair has turned grey searching for him. I regret that our children had to grow up without their father,” she says.On the thirteenth anniversary of his disappearance, Danda Pani Neupane’s case was submitted to the United Nations Human Rights Committee. But to this day, there has been no information about who or why he was arrested, if he is dead or alive, not has his family received justice.<a href="http://nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19345" target="blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Truth without justice is an insult</a>, Robert Godden--Gyanendra Tripathi was the member of a student union affiliated with the Maoist party.   Following the breakdown of the second ceasefire in 2003, the Royal Nepal Army began to  round up members of the student union.Gyanendra was arrested first time for 34 days, seven of which he spent in solitary confinement, blindfolded and severely beaten. Following his release, fearing for his own safety and that of his family, Gyanendra went underground. On 26 September 2003 at 11:00AM he left his home and never returned.Ever since, his wife Sharmila Tripathi has searched for him tirelessly. She pleaded at every police station, filed complaints, wrote letters to government ministries, human rights organizations. She even took part in hunger strikes to bring more attention to her husband’s disappearance.Her case went all the way up to the United Nations Human Rights Committee, which on 28 October 2014 found Nepal had violated Gyanendra’s right to life, to personal liberty, to recognition before the law and the prohibition of torture.Sharmila says, “I still have no idea of my husband’s whereabouts, but I still have hope. I will continue the search for him as long as I live.”   30 August is International Day of the Disappeared, and Nepali Times is bringing a series of features over the next few days on the survivors of the decade-long conflict and the families that the <a href="http://himalaya.socanth.cam.ac.uk/collections/journals/nepalitimes/pdf/Nepali_Times_827.pdf" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">disappeared left behind</a>. <img width="197" height="300" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7bb9c7e80680e07379cjpeg.jpg" alt="">Read also: <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/article/business/tale-of-two-commissions%20,1275" target="blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The tale of two commissions</a>, Binita Dahal

Disappearance of justice

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;