The Maoist war was at its peak, the rebels were attacking one district headquarters after another, people were being disappeared, Nepalis were killing fellow Nepalis. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/long-leave-the-king">King Gyanendra </a>had dismissed Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba for failing to hold elections and negotiate with the insurgents. By this point, the Maoists were also organised into the People’s Liberation Army (PLA), a centralised military force with battalion-level formations. The eastern division was led by Nanda Kishor Pun (later vice president), and the western division by Barshaman Pun (later finance minister).&nbsp; The night of terror which has since been dubbed<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/remembering-battle-of-Beni,3213"> the Battle of Beni </a>started at 10:30PM on Saturday, 20 March, and the fighting continued until 6AM the next day.&nbsp; Soldiers and police guarding the police station<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/20-years-ago-this-week/battle-of-beni"> fought until ammunition ran out</a>, the CDO building next door was reduced to rubble, and the army camp was the only government building standing, albeit barely. Thomas Bell, a Kathmandu-based correspondent for the Daily Telegraph, was one of the first foreign journalists on the scene, and had a dramatic eyewitness account in Nepali Times issue #189: ‘Lt Col Ragu Nepali’s office with its sandbagged windows is a wreck. He estimates there were at least 5,000 Maoists involved in the attack: frontline fighters, militia and porters.&nbsp; “They came in waves, like the sea, one after another, one after another,” said Lt Col Nepali, looking exhausted after two nights without sleep. “There were more women than men. And many, many child soldiers, below 14. I saw them while I was shooting back.” There were six Maoist bodies inside the army base and Nepali points them out: “They are all young children, this one is a girl.”…  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250828100812_7f9ca76a1a5d6e9b2fbe65557636afa206d996ecd34625877e5484f08feb5be7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250828100812_7f9ca76a1a5d6e9b2fbe65557636afa206d996ecd34625877e5484f08feb5be7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Rewind 2004 NT"> </figure>  After the sun came up, they were walking here like they were coming home from a movie. Singing, joking, showing no fear.”’ Accompanying the piece was a photograph by Bell of Jamila Khatun washing blood from her shopfront in Beni while her three-year-old daughter Sajita watched. The picture would go on to become an iconic image of the war and was included in Nepali Times’ publisher Kunda Dixit’s The People’s War trilogy, a pictorial documentation of the armed conflict in Nepal. In total, 19 civilians, 17 police and 14 soldiers were killed in the Beni attack, while at least 90 Maoists were slain. There were prisoners on both sides including Matrika Yadav from the Maoists.&nbsp; The Battle of Beni was one of the biggest attacks on a district headquarters, and a turning point in the conflict. Following Beni, the Army bolstered the defence of its garrisons, and the Maoists shifted to ambushing security convoys along the highways. UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan who had been to Nepal in 2001 expressed serious concern and offered to help find a solution. In our editorial that week, we said: ‘Kofi Annan has echoed the sentiments of nearly all Nepalis: that there is no military solution to the conflict.’ The United Nations went on to set up the United Nations Mission in Nepal (UNMIN) in 2007 to support the peace process following the end of the war. But the body was largely criticised for overstepping its mandate, disagreements over exit strategy, and perceived bias towards the Maoists, among others.&nbsp; Maoist supremo Pushpa Kamal Dahal in a leaked 2009 video even boasted of deceiving the UNMIN about the actual number of their fighters to 35,000 when the real figure was closer to 7,000-8,000. &nbsp;

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2004

On midnight 16 February 2002, on the sixth anniversary of the beginning of the insurgency, the Maoists launched the biggest attack till then against the state. Some 2,500 Maoist guerrillas stormed the town of Mangalsen in Achham in far west Nepal and went about strategically bombing government buildings and executing officials and security personnel.&nbsp; All 57 soldiers in the Mangalsen garrison, along with 77 policemen and five civilians were killed while many government buildings and Sanfebagar airport were destroyed. Up until that point, the Mangelsen raid was the single most damaging strike by the Maoists.&nbsp; Many heavy weapons were looted. Thirty-six civilian workers building an airfield were killed in Kalikot when the Army in hot pursuit mistook them for guerrillas. &nbsp; The Royal Nepal Army was now in the war, and more people were killed in the next 12 months than in the previous six years of conflict. The page 1 story Nation in Grief was by Umid Bagchand. Narendra Shrestha's photograph showed an army honour guard saluting fallen comrades at Pashupati cremation site as a grandmother looked on, capturing the sombre mood of the nation in mourning.&nbsp; The story read:&nbsp; ‘Twenty of the dead soldiers had execution-style bullet wounds in the head. Other bodies were severely charred. One injured soldier had his hand blown off when he picked up a Maoist grenade and tried to throw it back to them.&nbsp; He survived because the Maoists gave him up for dead. We were not allowed to speak to the other survivor, who was in a state of shock. In a simultaneous attack, the Maoists also destroyed the airfield at Sanfebagar 20 km to the north, killing another 27 policemen.&nbsp; With the barracks razed and nearly everyone killed, the Maoists had a run of the district headquarters. The policemen put up a brave defence, fighting almost to the last man, but they were overwhelmed by numbers and the Maoists’ better weapons.&nbsp; The attackers used automatic rifles, mortars and rocket-propelled grenades captured during the Ghorahi raid on 23 November. The Maoists looted another 55 automatic weapons and five machine guns from the Mangalsen barracks..’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250814080840_654fbd570c9fcea124158cecc57af61bddfbc24bd3747be1b14592f754f86ffc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250814080840_654fbd570c9fcea124158cecc57af61bddfbc24bd3747be1b14592f754f86ffc" data-rendition-name="original" width="605" height="879" loading="lazy" alt="Rewind 2002"> </figure>  The country was shaken to its core by the devastating scale of the attack, but it was also a tragic tale of warnings not heeded.&nbsp; As Bagchand reported for Nepali Times the week following the attack, the Maoists had distributed pamphlets, pasted posters, organised rallies warning of an impending attack on the district headquarters, and sent threatening letters to the district administration which was passed on to Kathmandu.&nbsp; The Chief District Officer Mohan Singh Khatri, who was killed in the attack, had said at an all-party meeting a few weeks prior that Kathmandu would likely send reinforcements only for their funerals, and as it turned out, the first army helicopters from the capital landed at 10AM on 12 February, just to pick up the corpses.&nbsp; In an editorial that week titled Coming out of Slaughter, we said that this cannot continue any longer and a real solution was in non-violent struggle, democracy, and social progress. ‘We have a situation here: democracy is threatened by an ultra-violent group that does not believe in it. Their reach has widened dramatically in the past six years, and they have used brutal violence to cleverly fill the vacuum left by the state.&nbsp; And as the threat to our democracy and freedoms get more and more serious, our parliamentary parties and factions within them continue to use that threat to bring each other down. Successive rulers since 1996 have squandered the political option: the civil police couldn’t fight the war so an armed police force was set up, the laws of the land were not enough and the anti-terrorism act was needed, constitutional provisions did not suffice and so an emergency was declared and the army unleashed. And the problem is still there. If anything, it is getting bigger.’ And bigger it did get. The Maoist war had already cost 3,200 lives until then, but would go on to claim more than five times that number by the time the peace accord was signed in 2006, and the former rebels were brought to mainstream politics.&nbsp; But the absence of war didn’t mean peace, as we found out in the years since. &nbsp;

2002

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>

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

This is the first instalment in a new limited series in Nepali Times on the historic transportation infrastructures of Nepal. Nepal’s Forest Railways As<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-s-border-trains-that-connected-nepal"> India’s railway network </a>expanded in the 1890s and 1900s, the demand for wooden railway sleepers, called ‘ties’ in America, likewise increased. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/the-rana-reign-a-recap-of-history,3751">Rana regime</a> realised that western Nepal’s dense forests, from which sal trees could be extracted and sold, represented a valuable source of revenue. There was a problem of accessing large tracts of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-tarai-s-shrinking-forests">Tarai forests</a>. However, once Indian railway lines are extended to Nepal’s border in several places, this issue could be resolved by constructing logging railways, also known as ‘tramways’ or ‘light railways’. The Nepal Government awarded a contract to Punjabi timber contractors to supply 15,000 sal sleepers to Chandan Chauki station of India’s Oudh &amp; Rohilkhand State Railway in 1908. The contractors also received a concession to construct a steam tramway to run 48km into <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/reviving-nepals-community-forestry-success-story">Nepal’s forests</a> for cutting and transporting trees. The author found no records, however, indicating that such an ambitious tramway was built in 1908. The hewn logs were probably carried into India by bullock carts or <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/elephants-become-white-elephants">elephants</a>. The earliest known forest railway in Nepal was built in 1914 in the southwestern corner of the present-day Parsa district. A British engineer went to the Indian border town of Bikna Thori to plan a 4-mile portable light railway for the transport of timber from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/on-the-tri-junction-of-wildlife-conservation-conflict-and-co-existence">the forest of Chitwan </a>to the Thori depot on the Bengal &amp; Northwestern Railway. This short line was laid upon wooden sleepers, and its rails could be taken up and repositioned when logging in one section of the forest was completed. This forest railway was in operation at least through 1917.&nbsp; A few year down the line in 1923, J V Collier of the Indian Forest Service built a narrow-gauge railway in Kailali district also to export of timber to India. This line, the Nepal Government Forest Railway, departed Chandan Chauki in Uttar Pradesh and ran 48km northwest into Nepal.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150820_84ddef57433c2f847b2c7e56c2d9c924084b6e6a504bbca905d2c593fac8eabd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250824150820_84ddef57433c2f847b2c7e56c2d9c924084b6e6a504bbca905d2c593fac8eabd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1130" height="689" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's little railways"> <figcaption>A Nepal Government Forest train in Kailali District hauling sal sleepers in 1925. Photo: DAVID CHURCHILL </figcaption> </figure>  It was a 2-foot railway supported by 11kg rails. The line was ‘temporary’ in that as sal trees were thinned out in one area, railway tracks were shifted to uncut areas of the forest. The railway crossed seven small <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-what-is-left-of-himalayan-rivers">rivers</a>, but the bridges were taken down during the summer and monsoon. Trains ran only from November to April. This forest railway purchased four 4-6-0T ‘tank’ engines built in Leeds, England. Each bogie could carry 100 broad-gauge sleepers, and two engines were needed to haul a 21-car train loaded with 2,100 sleepers. This huge commercial forest operation once employed about 14,000 men, most of them Indians. During one season, nearly 800,000 broad and metre-gauge sleepers were exported to India. When India suffered a depression in 1930, large scale operations came to an end. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rust-in-peace?fbclid=IwAR1_eg88TCOS6RGRW1af7WvaWx5mzh_rY8-vT1MnJxSs41QtCpaA988oXk8">Rust in peace</a>, Daniel W Edwards  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150828_13a0b894b9ea0c478904d358028f0c976d84f284432ee25106787366598d38e5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250824150828_13a0b894b9ea0c478904d358028f0c976d84f284432ee25106787366598d38e5" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>Rails extended north from this spot into the virgin sal forests of Bardia in western Nepal 100 years ago.  DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  A third railway was built in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-big-bulls-of-bardia">Bardia </a>where some scattered rails and signs of an old roadbed were seen in the 1960s. It ran from Nishangada in India to Khairbhatti in Nepal. From there, stations heading south were Ranipur, Karmak, Taratal and Madhuwan. Collier likely <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-train-project-struggles-to-stay-on-track">built this railway </a>as well in the 1920s. An elderly man in Bardia in 2022, whose father had worked on this forest railway, was interviewed for this account. Kathmandu Valley’s Motor (Trolley) Railway Merchants importing goods from India via the<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/business/ropeways-connecting-nepal,1749"> ropeway</a> Chandra Shamsher built in 1927 had to go to the ropeway’s terminus at Matatirtha near Thankot to claim their goods and then haul them 6km to the customs house Bhansar Adda at Teku for clearance and payment of customs duties. The Motor Railway was built to carry goods from the<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16839"> ropeway station </a>directly to the customs office, making it cheaper and more convenient for merchants to receive their shipments. In December 1931, Prime Minister Bhim Shamsher issued an order (sanad) putting Lt Gen Singha Shamsher Rana in charge of building this rail line to Teku and on to ‘Nabalak Khana’ in Tripureswar, a distance of 10km. The project was subdivided into four sections or ‘phant’, and for each, budgets and timelines were established. There was bato phant (constructing the roadbed), lik sleeper and jordne phant (laying sleepers and joining the rails), culvert phant (installing culverts) and pul phant (building bridges). Colonel Kishore Narsingh Rana was put in charge of the sleeper and rail section, while Colonel Dilli Jung Thapa, an engineer at Ghar Kaj Adda, also was involved. The Motor Railway was completed by the end of 1933. In the beginning, the railway’s small wagons may have been pulled and pushed by men and bullocks. However, in 1938 a British railway manufacturer sent Nepal a four-wheel, 5½ ton, 2-foot narrow-gauge diesel-powered locomotive with mechanical transmission, hence the name motor railway. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-railways-janakpur-test-drive?fb_comment_id=3554227181262227_4263866616964943">Nepal Railways Janakpur test drive</a> Leaving Matatirtha, the trains passed Satungal, Naikap, the Bishnudevi Temple, crossed an iron bridge over Balkhu Khola, then to Ghattepakha, Sunagau, through what is now a section of Kuleshwor (‘Lik Marg’) to the Customs Office at Teku.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825020852_033f0cee9775d7dadde7811132f84da876f614c386e3677e560ba7aed79909d9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250825020852_033f0cee9775d7dadde7811132f84da876f614c386e3677e560ba7aed79909d9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="railways in Nepal"> <figcaption>Lik Marg in Kuleswor, the former route of the Motor Trolley Railway. Photo: DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  In 1945, Motor Trolley had four engines, but spare parts was badly needed. The charge for transporting one maund (about 40kg) of cargo from Matatirtha to Teku was 50 paisa. Even though the trains ran slowly and only for a short distance, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/fatalism-and-fatalities">accidents were not unknown</a>. A train loaded with rice, salt and cotton derailed on a curve in July 1946, and two railway employees were crushed under the cars and killed, five others were injured. Besides the driver and a brakeman, guards rode the trains to prevent theft of goods.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150836_63a327d4db3b067a23dd5c6cf17a31ffe811ffd4a8429bc31011d62298a90060.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250824150836_63a327d4db3b067a23dd5c6cf17a31ffe811ffd4a8429bc31011d62298a90060" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>The author by the remains of the Balkhu Khola bridge built in 1932 with American steel. Photo: JEEVAN NEPAL</figcaption> </figure>  By 1953, government budget estimates indicated the Motor Railway would break even with an income of Rs70,000 against Rs71,000 in expenditure. It appears the railway stopped service around 1957 with the opening of the Raj Path and the extension of the ropeway from Matatirtha to Bhansar Adda. Bent steel beams of the bridge across Balkhu Khola and two plaques recovered from the river a few years ago are the only remains of this railway today. Photos of the Motor Trolley Railway in operation are hard to come by.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825020848_3a7cd17d0ffc36bbf5fdad404f5f6e91c7aa0e4f4ed729ed2c7e9c186f32ca9b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20250825020848_3a7cd17d0ffc36bbf5fdad404f5f6e91c7aa0e4f4ed729ed2c7e9c186f32ca9b" data-rendition-name="original" width="5189" height="1979" loading="lazy" alt="railways in Nepal"> <figcaption>Steel plaque commemorating the construction of a Motor Trolley bridge across the Balkhu Khola. Photo: DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  The Kosi Project Railway (KPR) As early as 1941, India and Nepal considered building a dam on<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-kosi-s-sorrow-and-scope"> the Kosi River</a> to prevent destructive floods caused by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">monsoon rains</a>. Floods in 1950 inundated 500 villages in Bihar and left 500,000 people homeless. The two governments signed an agreement in 1954 to build a barrage on the Kosi, and King Mahendra and Prime Minister Nehru laid the foundation stone in April 1959. To transport stones from a quarry near Dharan to use in mixing concrete at the construction site, the Indian government, in charge of building the barrage, made plans to build a narrow-gauge railway linking Bihar and its border town of Bhimnagar with Nepal’s settlements at Chakraghatti, Chatra and Ghopa, the outskirts of Dharan.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150816_fc5e13b01022c63c64f1e83589da0015eee7ecd002bdd3d97b88c98c1f3d45b7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_21" data-image-id="20250824150816_fc5e13b01022c63c64f1e83589da0015eee7ecd002bdd3d97b88c98c1f3d45b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="4011" height="2645" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>Steel plaque commemorating the construction of a Motor Trolley bridge across the Balkhu Khola. Photo: DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  The section of the KPR in Nepal totaled 66km — the country’s longest railway to date. The stations south of Chakraghatti were Rajabas, Maduhuwan, Kushaha, Haripur and Bhantabari. The line built, operated and owned by the Indian Government, was opened in 1958 and known locally as Dhunge (stone) Rail. Procuring locomotives, wagons and other materials was a challenge. India’s Railway Board searched the country for old 41 lb rails, and located steam engines, most built around 1910, in poor condition, and stored in ‘retirement’. These decrepit locomotives were later cannibalised for parts to keep the remaining engines running, and six newer locomotives built in Yugoslavia were sent to the KPR in 1960 to prevent the railway from shutting down and halting construction of the barrage.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150832_fd644f9e2674c5047a531de5dfeb2c8860b0f93dddc7a2df3db867bf31b2c94b.bmp" data-media-id="editor_22" data-image-id="20250824150832_fd644f9e2674c5047a531de5dfeb2c8860b0f93dddc7a2df3db867bf31b2c94b" data-rendition-name="original" width="3171" height="2069" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>KPR locomotives, water tank and staff at Chakraghatti in Nepal. Photo: JOHN BENSON</figcaption> </figure>  Used bogie-wagons (gondolas) came from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-nepal-rail-diplomacy">Indian railways</a> that had been converted to metre-gauge, others were manufactured in Muzaffarpur without couplers due to the non-availability of steel. A hundred new wagons arrived from Japan, but only half could be put in service, as couplers from the other 50 were removed and attached to the Muzaffarpur wagons. This smorgasbord of equipment kept shop mechanics and work crews busy, but now-abandoned railways in Nepal always operated under less-than-ideal conditions. Although the purpose of the KPR was to transport gravel, stones and boulders to the site of the barrage, photographs show people riding in loaded wagons. Excluding Dharan, there was no bus service through the wild animal infested jungle between Dharan and Chakraghatti or along the dusty paths linking other small villages on the KPR, so patient locals sat in wagons at Dharan, waiting perhaps for hours for trains to depart.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825020852_7d011dcc8e9b8cb0fe745b352486ebc4a84dac99419eadb35875333db20837c6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_24" data-image-id="20250825020852_7d011dcc8e9b8cb0fe745b352486ebc4a84dac99419eadb35875333db20837c6" data-rendition-name="original" width="3965" height="2659" loading="lazy" alt="railways in Nepal"> <figcaption>Ticketless riders on a train of gravel and stones in the forest between Dharan and Chakragatti in 1966. Photo: JOHN BENSON</figcaption> </figure>  Sons of former railway workers in Chakraghatti say that there were no fixed schedules, three or four trains ran both ways daily in the early 1960s. Southbound trains carried gravel, stones and boulders, while northbound trains would carry coal, cement and provisions, including sacks of coins to pay the workers. Trains even ran at night, and the crews worked long hours. Workers received free housing in project-built tenements but had to buy food supplies and items for personal use. The Babu Saheb or the superintendent lived at Chakraghatti, and at one time supervised more than 1,000 employees, nearly all of them from India. The barrage was completed in 1964, but by 1970, the Kosi Project Railway had passed into history. Daniel W Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal.

Nepal’s five little railways

It was 30 years ago this month that investment into ‘Baby Arun’, the 201MW first phase of the run-of-river Arun III project, was brought to a screeching halt when the World Bank officially withdrew its support. This brought about profound and fundamental changes in the way Nepal’s power sector subsequently developed. Nepalis suffered debilitating power outages between 2008-2016 due to shortages attributable to the cancellation. At the same time, the gap left by Baby Arun was filled by private sector investment in ways that were not obvious in 1995. It took 30 years, but in many ways Nepal’s power sector is more healthy today than it has ever been, and likely better than if the project was built as planned. At a projected budget of $1.08 billion, Baby Arun would have cost the equivalent of Nepal’s entire annual government expenditure in 1995. It was to be funded by concessional grants and loans from multilateral and bilateral funders, including the World Bank, Asian Development Bank (ADB), KfW, and investment by the government itself. At the time, Nepal’s total electricity generation capacity was only 230MW, and the trajectory of the power sector changed dramatically following the cancellation. In the past 30 years, $5.4 billion has been invested in the power sector led by private investors, and much of it from domestic banks and pension funds (table, right).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150840_c13d6f9f34d7163832b3089eabdad6f20d2d5cef3a53039e0432add2be6c32f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250829150840_c13d6f9f34d7163832b3089eabdad6f20d2d5cef3a53039e0432add2be6c32f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="984" height="521" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  Nearly 70% of the new megawatts generated were by private independent power producers (IPP) in the past 30 years, while the Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA) and its subsidiary companies added 30% of new capacity. Almost 80% of total debt financing came from domestic banks and employee retirement funds. International assistance for power generation dropped dramatically over this time, accounting for only about 15% of investment. Before 1995 new power projects used to be entirely dependent on foreign aid. Since 1995, 63% of new generation came from 171 small hydropower projects with an average capacity of 12MW, while 4% was from 21 solar photovoltaic and biomass projects developed by local IPPs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150844_5bc299fc78be90b95ce4727b0b3bdaa4542e17e126718cc8725d136630ffc097.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250829150844_5bc299fc78be90b95ce4727b0b3bdaa4542e17e126718cc8725d136630ffc097" data-rendition-name="original" width="988" height="503" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  Over three decades, investment in Nepal’s power supply came primarily from new actors that had never before been involved in this sector. The rate of electrification rose from 10% to close to 100% -- sufficient to meet domestic needs during most of the year, and in 2024 made Nepal a net exporter of power to India for the first time in its history. As practically all the new investment in this period went into run-of-river hydro and solar projects, rather than into hydropower reservoirs with seasonal storage, Nepal continues to rely on imports from India during the dry winter months. Surplus electricity generation for export during the monsoon is slated to grow rapidly as another 200 solar and hydro projects are nearing completion of construction, with over 5,000MW of power capacity. Private Power The cancellation of Baby Arun inadvertently accelerated the entry of the private sector into Nepal’s power generation. The government enacted the Electricity Act in 1992 to attract private IPPs and diversify away from total dependence from international aid, but had been struggling for several years to conclude the first agreement with the 60MW Khimti Project. There remained a large gap between the tariff that the government thought was reasonable versus what was demanded by the Norwegian investor Statkraft, and the private sector arms of the World Bank and ADB that were financing the project. The shock of World Bank withdrawal from Baby Arun put tremendous pressure on the government, then led by the UML as it is now. The Bank’s decision to terminate its involvement was ostensibly, at least partially, taken in response to a letter critiquing the project sent by the UML while it was in the opposition.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150848_7fb3641d776fe86a09ad60a758f7e16660a409fdb15e541644f13646b0894347.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250829150848_7fb3641d776fe86a09ad60a758f7e16660a409fdb15e541644f13646b0894347" data-rendition-name="original" width="949" height="446" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> <figcaption>BAD NEWS: Newspaper clippings from the early 90s on tender announcement ahead of loan approval (left) and secrecy surrounding environmental assessment (centre) of Arun III before its eventual cancellation in August 1995.</figcaption> </figure>  The government was forced to soften its position and agree to the investors’ terms following the cancellation of Baby Arun. It directed NEA to sign a power purchase agreement (PPA) with Khimti. It was concluded in January 1996, and this was followed by a second PPA in July 1996 with Panda Energy, the American developer of the 45MW Upper Bhotekosi project. The expensive USD-denominated agreements to buy power from two international private producers, with price escalation clauses tied to the New York Consumer Price Index, sent alarm bells ringing. There was worry that the country was heading towards unaffordable tariff rates for the consumer and potential bankruptcy for NEA as a result of inevitable future weakening of the Nepali Rupee. The government had strong-armed NEA into signing these agreements, and realised that concessionary financing terms that Nepal was used to receiving for public sector projects such as Baby Arun and Kali Gandaki A, that included below-market interest rates and 40 years repayment period with a 10 year grace period before starting repayment, were not the norm for private sector investors. Nepal’s status as a less than attractive destination for foreign investment meant that the country had few options but to accept expensive dollar PPAs from international developers with the high commercial interest rates and short repayment periods imposed by their banks because of high investment risks. In the end, the government ended up having to additionally provide a sovereign guarantee in order to close the deal at the insistence of the lenders – committing it to repayment in case NEA defaulted on paying the IPPs. It is reasonable to assume that the extraordinarily high political cost of agreeing to the PPA terms would have meant that no government would have willingly agreed to them in 1995 had it not suffered the trauma of the loss of concessionary-financed public sector projects as large as the Baby Arun. It has taken NEA 25 years to consider offering dollar-denominated PPAs again: to cover the foreign exchange portion of the investment in the 216MW Upper Trisuli-1 and 120MW Rasuwa-Bhotekosi Hydropower projects. It seemed unlikely at the time, but it turned out that the dire situation Nepal found itself in 1995 planted the seed to mobilise investment for affordable power from within the country. Double Whammy After the dual shock of first losing investment in Baby Arun and having to sign expensive power purchase agreements with international IPPs, the first proposal for an alternative strategy to mitigate the risk of foreign currency investment into hydropower projects came from a group of engineers within the Arun III team at NEA. Led by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4900">Deputy Director Damber Bahadur Nepali,</a> engineers convinced the leadership that NEA needed to invest in a subsidiary company to build a series of locally-designed and domestically-financed projects that would have lower cost with rupee-denominated PPAs. They registered the Chilime Hydropower Company Limited (CHCL) in October 1995 with 51% shares from NEA, 25% from its employees, and 24% available for the general public, 10% of which was prioritised for local residents at the project site. The 22.1MW project is in Rasuwa on a tributary of the Trisuli, and mobilised debt financing from the Employee Provident Fund, which manages retirement savings for employees of the government, public enterprises, and private sector institutions. CHCL’s experience showed that NEA employees themselves believed that individual hydropower projects with operational independence from NEA could be developed profitably in Nepal by its own engineers -- and they were willing to put their own money on the line. Chilime also demonstrated that there was money in the country, particularly with retirement funds, looking for opportunities for long-term investments. Following completion of Chilime in 2003, CHCL led the formation of three other NEA subsidiary companies that completed construction in 2023 and 2024, producing 168.3MW using fully rupee-tied investment. NEA’s largest subsidiary, the Upper Tamakosi Hydropower Limited, completed construction of its 456MW plant in 2021.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829160812_ce9ab8b49c598970db3f5bf0a079061ef52f153b28d9f4ead2bb1b26bfd7c2f3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250829160812_ce9ab8b49c598970db3f5bf0a079061ef52f153b28d9f4ead2bb1b26bfd7c2f3" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="1571" loading="lazy" alt="30 Years after Baby Arun"> <figcaption>DAMNED: The $700 million 456MW Upper Tamakosi built entirely with domestic funds before it was destroyed by the September floods last year. </figcaption> </figure>  There were some delays and cost overruns on this run-of-river project, the largest in the country with a final cost of over $700 million -- all of it sourced domestically. The five subsidiary companies launched by NEA have produced almost two times as much new power as NEA has over the past 30 years. Seven other NEA subsidiaries are currently constructing projects to add another 474MW to the national grid. But even more important than NEA subsidiaries have been local IPPs: Nepali companies which have over the past three decades enthusiastically entered the hydropower sector. From a regulatory perspective, the credit for mobilising domestic private investment to engage in power generation goes to Minister of Water Resources Shailaja Acharya, who in 1998 offered a flat feed-in-tariff of Rs4/kWh for hydropower projects under 10MW. This upfront offer removed a major barrier that early developers had faced of having to spend money to carry out a detailed feasibility study before they could even start tariff negotiations with NEA. She had laid the foundation stone of the Chilime project, and proved to be the champion of opening up the sector for domestic IPPs. The guarantee of a PPA with a fixed tariff, irrespective of project specifications, gave small power developers the confidence to apply for survey licenses and invest in feasibility studies so they could directly approach commercial banks and make a case for their project producing required revenue to repay loans. Domestic IPPs started adding power to the national grid in 2002. Their contribution was initially modest, and first projects were small and commercial lenders who took time to be confident about providing debt financing to a sector which had previously not been considered suitable for private sector investment. While the first 10 years were slow, with less than 10MW being added to the grid each year, this increased twenty fold over the following ten years, resulting in the equivalent of a Baby Arun being added by Nepali IPPs to the grid each year. A total of 84 IPPs added 232MW, 328 MW, 454MW, and 400MW of new generation to the grid in 2021-2024 (graph). There was explosive, exponential growth as domestic developers have surged ahead to account for 76% of the new megawatts added to the grid since 2020, compared to 24% by NEA and its subsidiary companies. The megawatts that IPPs are adding have followed the classic ‘hockey stick curve’ with the ‘breakout point’, signaling the rapid growth phase in 2020. Private producers are expected to accelerate new generation in the coming years with 300 solar and hydropower projects adding 11,000MW. Another 166 hydropower and 96 solar projects are currently in the survey stage, and are in line to add another 11,000MW to the construction pipeline. One major challenge is finding financing required for the projects. Domestic investment will no longer be sufficient to finance this ambitious pipeline of renewable energy projects. Project developers as well as NEA and the Electricity Regulatory Commission will have to leverage their substantial experience accumulated through the construction of over 200 projects to attract regional and international investment and hedge the risks of dollar-denominated PPAs. Following the cancellation of Baby Arun, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/decentralising-power-in-nepal">Nepal developed a highly distributed power sector</a>. The national electricity grid is currently supplied with power from a remarkably decentralised array of hundreds of hydropower and solar photovoltaic projects spread across 43 districts and all seven provinces.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150848_0c3aa66b34bfb08380a624f397bf3ebb4126f4d6b41a26115848b496876f501b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250829150848_0c3aa66b34bfb08380a624f397bf3ebb4126f4d6b41a26115848b496876f501b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1228" height="867" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  This presents a sharp contrast to the pathway of a few large public sector hydropower projects with a sprinkling of private sector projects that was envisioned as part of NEA’s investment planning when Baby Arun was being considered the front runner for investment. The strategy then was to allow public sector investment in a few large hydropower projects with thermal plants to fill the gap. Knowing what we know now about acceleration of climate change impacts and increased extreme weather events, following this path would have made Nepal’s power sector highly vulnerable. Decentralised generation greatly improves the resilience of Nepal’s power supply as damage to power plants in one part of the country need not affect other areas that have their own generation. Following the investment plan where over two thirds of the country’s power supply would have come from power plants on the Arun River, would have greatly imperiled Nepal’s energy security. All rivers in Nepal are susceptible to flooding from cloudbursts made more frequent by climate change. The Arun River which is fed by glaciers in Tibet is also at risk to glacial lake outburst floods. Bikash Pandey is Director of Clean Energy and Circular Economy at Winrock International. People Power is his regular column in Nepali Times on global energy issues relevant to Nepal. <h2>Decentralised and Diversified</h2> In the 30 years since the cancellation of ‘Baby Arun’: Hydropower projects constructed cover capacities ranging from less than 1MW to 456MW and developed by IPPs from across the country with strong local involvement in purchasing equity shares. Renewable energy sources contributed to the generation mix through solar IPPs that further contribute to climate resilience, and cover shortfalls during low rainfall. The government is committed to solar contributing 10% of the power on the grid. Increasing solar beyond this target and providing incentives to project developers to invest in utility-scale battery storage would further improve resilience. BIG ARUN: The 900MW Arun III project under construction since 2018 at Num in Sankhuwasabha (pictured, below) is a separate initiative by a different project developer using a different financing modality. The ‘Baby Arun’ version of Arun III was cancelled in 1995.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150852_df534df5166eb5a9bb4cbe101627bdec7ac1df2a405a9d3988d1c86fcc8ecdeb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250829150852_df534df5166eb5a9bb4cbe101627bdec7ac1df2a405a9d3988d1c86fcc8ecdeb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1312" loading="lazy" alt="30 Years after Baby Arun"> </figure>

30 years after Baby Arun

Turkish Airlines is official airline partner for the second edition of the Vatsalya Everest Women’s Volleyball League (EWV). The league, scheduled for 5-13 September, will take place in Pokhara and feature 18 international players alongside elite Nepali volleyball talent. The agreement was signed by Turkish General Manager Serkan Başar, and EWV CEO Snevy Chapagain. “Turkish Airlines’ support ensures a seamless journey and adds immense prestige to the league’s goal of women’s empowerment through sports as well as the agenda of sports tourism,” said Chapagain. “We are thrilled to partner with Vatsalya Everest Women’s Volleyball League as the official airline. With this association, we aim to support women role models in sports. We believe this association will connect countries to Nepali volleyball,” remarked Basar.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825030844_36df66612152abbea71f15579358a2bb0fe797f21cbe7e7c7f28e3fe91655ae4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250825030844_36df66612152abbea71f15579358a2bb0fe797f21cbe7e7c7f28e3fe91655ae4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Turkish"> </figure>

Turkish to sponsor women’s volleyball league

India and China have a long-standing border dispute along their Himalayan border which has erupted in violent skirmishes. But Indian and Chinese officials last week agreed to ignore Nepal’s own border dispute with India to facilitate trade. The Indian Ministry of External Affairs this week flatly rubbished <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/territorialism">Nepal’s territorial claims</a> to the Lipulek Pass and the Kalapani Region, including Limpiyadhura, which Nepal considers as the source of the Mahakali River that forms Nepal’s western border with India. The latest episode in this dispute has come as Sino-Indian relations have thawed after US President Donald Trump slapped <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-and-the-us-india-tariff-tiff">sanctions on Indian exports</a>. The joint communiqué in Beijing said India and China had agreed to resume their border trade through the Nathu La, Sipki La and Lipulek during Chinese foreign minister Wang Yi’s visit to New Delhi. Lipulek is a pass 10 km north-east of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/there-is-precedent-to-settling-kalapani">Kalapani</a> which has been disputed ever since the Survey of India published its 1879 map, where the source of the Mahakali was suddenly shifted from Limpiyadhura to Lipulek.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250826060824_4e68dd5964e0995b91148de9978a1de52b19691e1b01f52a405924fd130c22bd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250826060824_4e68dd5964e0995b91148de9978a1de52b19691e1b01f52a405924fd130c22bd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="2083" loading="lazy" alt="Lipulek dispute explainer"> </figure>  This tributary of the Mahakali was called the Kali on this map, and is a fordable tributary and not the main channel of the border river. The main Kali River was renamed Kuti Yangdi, and this happened while the British were still in India presumably to gain access to the Lipulek in contravention of the 1816 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/borderline-disorder">Sugauli Treaty</a>.&nbsp; This subterfuge continued even after India gained independence in 1947. Nepal has maintained that the main channel of the Kali is the border as per the 1816 treaty, when Nepal lost a third of its territory to British India. It is all well and good that India and China are now friendly enough to <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19447">open border trade</a> routes, but it should not be in violation of Nepal’s territorial integrity. Nepal should be called for diplomatic and political negotiations regarding the Lipulek pass and the Kalapani region comprising Limpiyadhura.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/when-xi-meets-modi-and-oli">When Xi meets Modi and Oli</a>, Kanak Mani Dixit China and India, but especially the latter, should invite Nepal to discuss these issues and iron out the disputes based on facts and evidence and maps. Nepal had sent seven diplomatic notes to India and three to China so far regarding the Lipulek and Kalapani. India has not responded to any of them. China replied once saying that Nepal and India should sort out their border disputes first before voicing their opinions. Nepal welcomes the recent talks between India and China that it hopes will positively impact on settling border disputes that are mostly stalled since the 1962 Sino-Indian war, the 73-day military standoff over the disputed Doklam region between China and Bhutan, and the 2020 Galwan clash in Ladakh. Nepal’s two large neighbours seem to have come to their senses and realised that it is in their interest to collaborate rather than confront each other when President <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/trump-s-first-month">Trump is acting erratically</a> with threats of sanctions and tariffs.&nbsp; Prime Minister K P Oli should bring up Nepal’s grave concerns about the Lipulek during his state visit to India next month when he will meet Prime Minister Narendra Modi in Bodh Gaya. The two are also expected to meet next week at the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation summit in Tianjin when Chinese President Xi Jinping will also be present. But even before that Nepal should send diplomatic notes to both the Indian and the Chinese governments regarding their agreement to resume border trade through the Lipulek.&nbsp; Here is a timeline of the developments regarding the Lipulek: Sino-Indian Agreement of 1954 This 8-year Agreement on Trade and Exchange between Tibet and India was signed in Peking on 29 April, 1954 by the Chinese Vice-Foreign Minister Chang Han Fu and the Indian Ambassador Nedyam Raghavan.&nbsp; There was no explicit mention on the border settlements either on the Line of Actual Control (LAC) or on Ladakh, although trade and pilgrimage through Lipulek and other 5 passes (Sipki La, Mana Pass, Niti Pass, Kungri Bingri Pass and Dharma Pass) were agreed upon.&nbsp; Trade between Uttar Pradesh state and the Tibet Autonomous Region was through ‘border &nbsp;point of the agreement states: ‘With a view to facilitating the visits of persons engaged in border trade and the exchange of commodities and means of transportation, (India and China) have decided that Lipulek (Qiangla) be the border pass for the entrance and exit of the said persons, commodities and means of transportation from the two sides.’ The agreement expired on 6 June 1962 during the Sino-Indian war, and the two sides did not renew it. Bilateral ties started to normalise only in the 1990s with the Indian decision in 1988 to abandon its policy of settling ‘territorial issue’ for ‘normalisation of relations’. India There was no reaction from Nepal to the 1954 agreement since Nepal did not have diplomatic relations with China yet at the time. Sino-Indian Agreement of 2005 The Political Parameters and the Guiding Principles for the Settlement of the Sino-Indian Boundary Question is detailed in 11 Articles, which outline the steps to be taken for a Peaceful and Tranquil Border. The agreement was a direct outcome of the Special Representatives mechanism that had been set up through a 2003 agreement. It also incorporated the Confidence Building Measures in Military Field along the Line of Actual Control (LAC) in the Sino-Indian Border Areas signed in 1996.&nbsp; A protocol on Modalities for the Implementation of Confidence Building Measures in the Military Field along the Line of Actual Control in the India-China Border Areas signed during Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao’s India visit, which stated in Clause 2 of Article 5: ‘Both sides agree to extend in principle to expand the mechanism of border meeting points to include Kibithu Dhamal in the Eastern Sector and Lipulek Pass (Qing La) in the Middle Sector. The precise locations of these border meeting points will be decided upon mutual consultations.’ Nepal’s Foreign Ministry issued a statement in 2005 stating that Nepal had asked China about the issue and the Chinese Embassy clarified that the agreement had nothing to do with Kalapani. This was perhaps the first time that Nepal had objected to the Sino-Indian agreement on Lipulek. King Gyanendra had staged a coup d’état on 1 February 2005, just two months prior to this agreement. The Nepali press voiced criticism of China in particular for disregarding the country’s sentiment.&nbsp; Sino-Indian Agreement of 2015 India and China signed several documents during the state visit of Chinese President XI Jinping to India on 18 September 2011. Number one on the list was: ’Opening a New Route for Indian Pilgrimage (Kailash Mansarovar Yatra) to the Tibet Autonomous Region of the People’s Republic of China’.&nbsp; The Indian foreign ministry stated: ‘The MoU provides for conducting the annual Kailash Mansarovar Yatra through Nathula Pass in Sikkim in addition to the existing Lipulek Pass in Uttarakhand’. On May 15, 2015, China and India issued a Joint Statement during Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s visit to China. Point 28 under the ‘Trans-border Cooperation’, states that the two sides agreed to ‘hold negotiation on augmenting the list of trades commodities, and expand border trade at Nathu La, Quingla/Lipulek Pass and Sipki La Pass’. Nepal’s objection to the 2015 agreement was stronger than in 2005. Prime Minister Sushil Koirala called up Narendra Modi to express Nepal’s displeasure It was not until 2020 that Nepal’s Foreign Minister disclosed that ‘Nepal had expressed its disagreement in 2015 through separate diplomatic notes addressed to the governments of both India and China … including Lipulek Pass as a bilateral trade route without Nepal’s consent.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250826060824_d4497e2620bba81211d27e427393974877e09006abc26e13055508996e5b29ea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250826060824_d4497e2620bba81211d27e427393974877e09006abc26e13055508996e5b29ea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1108" height="1550" loading="lazy" alt="Lipulek dispute explainer"> </figure>  The new political map of India published by the Survey of India in November 2019 that incorporated areas east of the Kali River including Kalapani as Indian territory sparked renewed public, and political, attention to the Mahakali dispute. The Nepal government then countered by formally approving the publication of the new Political and Administrative Map of Nepal including all territories lying to the east of the Mahakali River on May 18, 2020. In June, the House of Representatives unanimously endorsed the second amendment to the Constitution of Nepal to update the country’s new political map in the national emblem. Sino-Indian Consensus of 2024 A 6-point Consensus on Peace and Tranquility on the Line of Actual Control (LAC) was agreed on December 18, 2024 between the Special Representative of the People’s Republic of China, Wang Yi, and the Special Representative of the Republic of India, Ajit Doval.&nbsp; India has not denied that this is a consensus, while China made it clear that this was not a Joint Statement. This Consensus is in line with the 2005 agreement, and was agreed during the 23rd round of the Special Representatives talks held after a gap of five years aimed at restoring bilateral ties frozen because of the military standoff in Ladakh. The agreement included: cross-border communication and cooperation, promoting the resumption of pilgrimages by Indians to Xizang, cooperation on crossborder rivers, and trade at the Nathu La Pass. Nepal made no reaction to the statement despite Lipulek being the pilgrimage route for Mansarovar and Kailash.&nbsp; Prabhakar Sharma is a construction engineer and an international border expert who has worked as a survey engineer for the Cameroon-Nigeria border demarcation by the United Nations.