Nearly 750,000 Nepalis went abroad for employment in the past year, and more than 100,000 left on student visas. Most of them were young Nepali men and women, and the number has been increasing every year. As with other sections of society, Nepal’s security agencies also face a recruitment crisis. Nepal Police opened recruitment for 64 inspectors in September, and received 2,239 applications, compared to 2,718 candidates last year. Police also invited candidates for 256 assistant sub-inspectors this year for which it received 17,756 applications – down from 19,932 last year. It is the same story in the Nepal Army, the number of applicants for the post of Officer Cadet (Second Lieutenant) went down from 6,144 for 400 open seats in 2019 to 4,390 in 2020. Meanwhile, applicants in the paramilitary Armed Police Force went down from 857 applications for 75 posts in 2021 to 536 applicants for 99 posts last year. While the number of applicants appears higher than the demand, the data shows a significant decrease in applications for vacancies in Nepal’s law enforcement agencies. Security personnel are recruited on the basis of rank and age in Nepal, and the age cutoff for entry into Nepal’s security agencies is typically 25 years. Sociologist and migration expert Ganesh Gurung says that the demographic of young, physically fit Nepalis emigrating abroad in search of better opportunities has impacted recruitment into law enforcement and the military here at home. “The returns from working in Nepal’s police and army are minimal, whereas overseas job opportunities are more attractive,” Gurung says. “The work may be physically demanding abroad, but the pay is a lot higher.”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241116041148_a7e477e0ee2f56acf16c2559fdb24d8f0377f7bc1f9e56138bc40108fc4fa33f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241116041148_a7e477e0ee2f56acf16c2559fdb24d8f0377f7bc1f9e56138bc40108fc4fa33f" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="534" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal Police"><figcaption>Nepal Police</figcaption></figure>  Nepal Police spokesperson DIG Dan Bahadur Karki agrees that the physical and mental demands of a law enforcement job is incomparable to the income that security personnel earn. “A young Nepali who works in Dubai earns enough to build a home in the village within four years, while a Nepali with the same qualifications and physical ability in a security agency here barely makes enough to survive,” says Karki. “Obviously the youth prefer foreign employment.” Security agencies are now worried about the quality of inducted manpower. “There is a difference in work ethic between an applicant chosen from a competitive pool of 50 candidates versus one chosen from a pool of three candidates,” explains Gurung. “Unmotivated employees hamper the overall performance of the state apparatus.” Nepal Army spokesperson Brigadier General Gaurab Kumar KC says recruitment has not been hampered by outmigration: “We have still been getting more than three times the applicants than there are open posts, so we are not yet worried.” Even so, the passing rates of aspirants have gone down for security forces after the Public Service Commission began examinations for military recruitment in 2015. In fact, the Nepal Army complained about the Commission’s involvement in recruitment. Still, the number of vacant military posts tends to exceed the number of passing candidates. Nepal Army’s KC says that the military will not compromise on intake criteria even if there are fewer passing applicants. “Unqualified persons will not be admitted even if there are less-than-required passing candidates. We will re-advertise if that is the case.” But Nepal’s security forces now also have to worry about retention of existing personnel. About 900 Nepal Army, 600 Nepal Police, and 300 Armed police personnel resign every year before the completion of their tenure.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241116041148_b8cd62f70eea3aac7d3d3778615a5b70b1e20550c9bd76321f051f9c766fd2a9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241116041148_b8cd62f70eea3aac7d3d3778615a5b70b1e20550c9bd76321f051f9c766fd2a9" data-rendition-name="original" width="750" height="378" loading="lazy" alt="Armed police forces"><figcaption>Armed Police Force</figcaption></figure>  In 2020, Home Minister Ram Bahadur Thapa recalled almost 1,000 police personnel who had been deployed for the security of VIPs after long-standing criticism that security forces were being misused to cater to political and bureaucratic leadership. However, security personnel have continued to be assigned to high-ranking officials as glorified housekeepers. In December 2022, Rabi Lamichhane’s Home Ministry had instructed its offices to recall unauthorised security personnel assigned to high-ranking officials, following which 500 officers from Nepal Police and Armed Police Force were withdrawn from their details. But the Nepal Army does not have to follow such rules, and the practice of army personnel serving high-ranking active-duty and retired military personnel remains. Conditions here are dire enough that many active duty officers in Nepal’s military and police forces have chosen to leave their jobs to serve in the Russian Army to fight in the Ukraine war. The hierarchical culture and chain of command of politics, bureaucracy, law enforcement and military has also meant that abuse and mistreatment of subordinates is rife in Nepal’s security forces. “Feudalism is alive and well within our security institutions,” says Gurung. “When soldiers and security forces who swore to protect and serve the nation are made to be at the beck and call of politicians and bureaucrats, it is easy to understand why they are disillusioned with their jobs and why they choose to quit and find jobs abroad.”

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Job insecurity in security forces

Nepal’s success in doubling its forest cover in 30 years has been possible for two reasons: community management of woodlands, and the protection of the country’s national parks by the Nepal Army.
But questions are now being raised about why national parks need to be guarded with guns when protection by <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepali-women-at-forefront-of-saving-tigers">local communities</a> have been so successful.
“Our internal evaluation has shown that it is due to the presence of the military that endangered species have been successfully protected,” says Megh Nath Kafle of the Ministry of Forest’s Department of Biodiversity and Environment. “Without the army, conservation would have been much more difficult.”
However, some activists say giving all the credit for Nepal’s successes in conservation solely to the military would be a disservice to the scores of local communities that have been even more successful in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/villagers-step-up-to-protect-nepal-s-tigers">protecting wildlife habitats</a>.
Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/protecting-protected-areas-from-infrastructure">Protecting protected areas from infrastructure</a>, Sonia Awale
“People living at the edge of national parks have played the most important role in nature conservation,” says Bharati Pathak of the Federation of Community Forest User Groups.
“By praising only the army, we ignore the contribution of local communities. The Annapurna Conservation Area is an example of successful conservation even without a military presence,” she adds.
The Nepal Army has also been accused of harassing local communities for entering buffer zone forests to collect wild edibles, or grazing livestock even though those areas outside the parks are not within the army’s jurisdiction.
Conservationists, however, say that the military's presence is critical in parks along the border with India to deter poachers. Killing tigers and rhinos for their pelts, bones and horns nearly decimated India’s wildlife in the 1980s and 1990s. Poaching increased in Nepal during the Maoist conflict when the army was redeployed elsewhere.
The Royal Nepal Army’s involvement in guarding national parks started in 1975 after Chitwan National Park was established, mainly to protect the seriously depleted numbers of rhinos and tigers.
Today, more than 8,000 soldiers are stationed in Nepal’s various nature reserves, with battalions in Chitwan, Bardia, Shuklaphanta, Banke, Parsa, Shivapuri and Langtang, while there are company-strength bases guarding Khaptad, Sagarmatha, Bara, Shey Phoksundo, Makalu Barun, Kosi Tappu and Dhorpatan reserves. Conservation areas like Annapurna, Manaslu, Kanchenjunga and Gauri Shankar do not have an army presence.
The main duty of the soldiers is to control <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/in-conservation-nepal-is-not-out-of-the-woods-yet">encroachment and poaching</a> with regular patrols as well as to help with wildlife census and wildlife translocation activities.
Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/wildlife-people-coexistence-in-nepal-national-park">Wildlife-people coexistence in Nepal national park</a>, Kunda Dixit
“Problems arise when villagers enter the national park from the buffer zones, and our patrols have to take action,” explains Brigadier General Krishna Prasad Bhandari. “Our units constantly work with the national park authorities to spread awareness about park rules.”
Even so, for many activists and locals it is not clear why nature needs to be protected with guns when local communities everywhere in Nepal have a proven track record in effective nature conservation.&nbsp;
“It would be much more effective if the army worked more closely with local communities because without their cooperation, genuine conservation is not possible,” says Ramprit Yadav, a pioneer naturalist who was involved in the establishment of Chitwan National Park.
Soldiers have been accused of terrorising local villagers, especially those from Indigenous communities like Tharu, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/chitwan-s-bote-people-in-a-changing-world">Bote</a>, Chepang and Majhi.
“Conservation does not come out of the barrel of a gun, you have to involve local communities, especially Indigenous peoples who have traditionally managed their forest habitats,” says Naya Sharma Poudel of Forest Action Nepal.
Nepal’s <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/reviving-nepals-community-forestry-success-story">forest cover</a> has increased from 26% in 1992 to 45% today, largely due to the role of the community forestry program. Nearly 24% of the country's area is now protected nature reserves, and the army is deployed in 15 of them.&nbsp;
Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/villagers-step-up-to-protect-nepal-s-tigers">Villagers step up to protect Nepal’s tigers</a>, Teri D. Allendorf

Does Nepal need the army to guard parks?

In The Survey of the Nepali People conducted by Kathmandu University and Interdisciplinary Analysts last year, 91% of respondents said the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-army-inc">Nepal Army</a> was the institution they trusted the most.&nbsp;
<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/quid-pro-quo-quagmire">Politicians</a> were at the bottom of the heap, and the sample showed great distrust towards social media content as well. We can understand politicians being unpopular, but why is the military held in such high esteem? &nbsp;
Nepal’s army has not been involved in any external conflict since the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-start-of-the-anglo-gorkha-war">Anglo-Nepal War</a> that ended in 1816, although Nepali nationals fight and die in foreign wars to this day. The last time the Army fired guns in anger was during its involvement in the Maoist conflict 2001-2006.
For most of its 260 year history, the Nepal Army has shown <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=7270#.ZB0ZZC8w1KM">loyalty</a> to royalty. Being the army of the founding king, that is understandable. During the Rana period, the Army was under direct command of hereditary prime ministers, but reverted its loyalty to the Shahs after King Mahendra employed the military to stage a coup against a nascent democracy in 1960. &nbsp;
Deposed <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/last-days-with-bp-koirala">Prime Minister B P Koirala’</a>s secretary Kumar Mani Dixit recalls in his memoir how BP expressed his exasperation about the military not being under an elected civilian command. “What can we do when he (Mahendra) has the might of the military behind him,” BP said.&nbsp;
Forty years later, BP’s brother Girija Koirala was also prime minister when the Royal Nepal Army refused to obey his order to mobilise against a deadly <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10616#.ZB0Y_S8w1KM">Maoist attack</a> in 2001 on a police base in Holeri of Rolpa district. Shortly after, Girija Koirala resigned as prime minister.
In 2009, after the Nepal Army was made to drop ‘Royal’ from its name, the military and the political leadership were at odds once again after Prime Minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal tried to fire <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/rookmangud-katawal-memoir,1567">Army Chief General Rookmangud Katawal </a>to replace him with his handpicked Lt Gen Kul Bahadur Khadka. Gen Katawal refused to step down, President Ram Baran Yadav overturned the Prime Minister’s decision, and Dahal resigned.
Perhaps past confrontations between Nepal’s military and elected governments have made the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/why-politicians-pamper-the-military">politicians wary of provoking the Army</a>. So they have co-opted generals in National Pride Projects like the Kathmandu-Tarai Expressway so that the military is also tarred with the same brush as themselves.
Now they are eying the Rs73 billion that has accumulated in the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=11033#.ZB0ZqC8w1KM">Nepal Army Welfare Fund</a>. Some in the top brass want to invest it in banking and real estate, with the active support of political parties.
The report Nepal Kleptocratic Network: Mapping Corruption and Impunity by the Policy Research Institute says political interference <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5270#.ZB0ZyS8w1KM">corrupts the military </a>and sidetracks it from its primary role in defending national security.
The role of the Ministry of Defence is to strengthen civil-military relations and democratise the military, but it has no say. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16287#.ZB0Z9i8w1KM">National Security Council</a> is supposed to strategise on defence and plan on downsizing the Army, but has become a political pawn. &nbsp;
Nepal <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/geopolitical-tug-o-war-over-nepal">borders the two most populous countries</a> with the largest standing armies in the world, and both are nuclear powers. We are not at war with any other country. And yet the Nepal Army takes a big chunk of the annual budget. Can Nepal, like Costa Rica, not have a military at all? We could spend the money on equitable development instead.
While maintaining the trust of the people in the military is important, Nepalis must be made to realise that the Army is not above the Constitution or the laws of the land. The military’s financial dealings should therefore be under scrutiny by civilian courts and the Commission for Investigation of Abuse of Authority.&nbsp;
The army has <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-army-pvt-ltd">no business being in business</a>. No good has come out of any military in the world being involved in profit-making ventures. We have seen in neighbouring countries what happens when the army becomes a private limited company. As BP Koirala put it more than half a century ago, 'Nepal’s military needs a new purpose to establish a prosperous future for our democracy.'&nbsp;
&nbsp;A report by Transparency International UK says this: &nbsp;'Business engagements are detrimental to the professionalism of the armed forces, as it serves as a major distraction from its core duties. One of the most harmful consequences of such practices is that the element of profit-making breeds corruption within the military. As evidenced from the case studies in the literature, the scale and type of corruption varies. In more extreme cases, corruption encompasses embezzlement of state funds, tax fraud and even brutal coercive practices on workers. Once the military begins to engage in economic activities, it is often difficult to end such practices.'
Those lines could have been written with Nepal in mind.

Defence mechanism

<figure><img width="1000" height="720" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/637209a29c7e80680e0b5553jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Devi Sunar and her adopted daughter Maina in front of the picture of Devi’s late daughter Maina who was only 14 when she was tortured and killed by the Royal Nepal Army. Photo: GULIGO JIA.</figcaption></figure>These days, every other day seems like an anniversary of one of the more famous crimes committed during the insurgency years. Today marks 18 years since 14-year-old Maina Sunar was <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2015/02/17/remembering-maina/">detained and murdered by the Royal Nepal Army</a> in Panchkhal of Kavre District.At the peak of the Maoist War, Maina’s case became a symbol of the human rights violations perpetrated by both sides in the decade-long conflict. Nearly two decades later, her mother Devi is <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2013/02/16/still-waiting/">still fighting for justice</a> for the extrajudicial killing of her daughter.Unable to access official channels, Devi has written an open letter asking Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba to uphold rule of law and respect the Court’s decision.'My daughter would have been 33 this year. I had many dreams for her, as I am sure you do too about your son. Everything was robbed from me and my family. Although I won’t be able to bring my daughter back, and nothing could repair that loss, I want to see those responsible brought to justice,' the letter reads.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepals-unpunished-war-crimes/">Nepal's unpunished war crimes</a>, Sabita AdhikariShe continues: 'This will give a sense of security and hope, not only to me and my family, but also to hundreds of victims who suffered from similar losses during the armed conflict.'On 17 February 2004, an army patrol looking for Devi detained Maina and her brother for interrogation as a suspected Maoist. Soon after, she disappeared, never to return. Her brother was however sent back. For three years, Sunar’s family kept looking for Maina, having known that she was taken by the soldiers. <img width="400" height="406" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/637209a49c7e80680e0b5554jpeg.jpg" alt="">It was later revealed that Maina was <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/313/FromtheNepaliPress/12418#.Yg5Dse5Bz0s">electrocuted to death</a> on the same night as retribution for her mother Devi’s vocal criticism of the Army’s involvement in the murder of her niece, Reena Rasaili, accused of being a Maoist supporter.Under pressure from international rights groups, the Army set up a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9966#.Yg5DxO5Bz0s">court of inquiry</a> to investigate the incident and the accused Colonel Bobby Khatri, Captain Sunil Prasad Adhikari and Amit Pun were sentenced to six months imprisonment, fined Rs50,000 and faced a ban on future promotions.But Devi did not think the punishment was commensurate with the crime and filed a case in the civil court. During this time, with help from the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) and the United Nations Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (UNOHCHR), Maina’s body was exhumed from Panchkhal barracks.On 16 April 2017, after a thirteen-year-long legal battle, the District Court Kavre found three army officers guilty of murdering Maina but they have not been arrested or punished.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/still-missing-but-not-forgotten/">Still looking for dad missing in Nepa</a>l, Anita BhetwalIn her letter, Devi has questioned the existence of two commissions set up to investigate war crimes, the Disappearance Commission and the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/conflict-victims-fear-TRC-only-serves-interests-of-state,2042">Truth and Reconciliation Commission</a> that have little to show in the way of delivering transitional justice.In fact, successive governments made up of former enemies the state has used the commissions to do their bidding and cover up their war crimes. Moreover, the Supreme Court’s order to amend the Transitional Justice Act mechanism is yet to be implemented.'Dear Prime Minister, I have promised my daughter that unless I bring those perpetrators to justice, I won’t rest. The remains of my daughter are still in the Teaching Hospital, and I am not able to perform her last rituals pending the implementation of the court’s decision,' concludes the letter. 'I am waiting to see your commitment to protecting victims instead of perpetrators and respecting court orders to ensure the rule of law in the country.'Read more: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16781#.Yg5HPu5Bz0s">Open Wounds</a>, Mallika Aryal

'She would have been 33 this year'

<figure><img width="1776" height="1149" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/6372094f9c7e80680e0b5534jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Gyan, Buddhisara B.K., parents of two laboureres killed in Kotbada airport, Kalikot.</figcaption></figure>It was 8 December 2002, and my documentary जोगीमाराका ज्युँदाहरु (The Living of Jogimara) was being screened at the Kathmandu International Mountain Film Festival (KIMFF 2002). The hall at the Russian Cultural Centre in Kathmandu was packed, and the audience had overflowed into the aisles. As director, I should have been sitting on the front row. But I had another job that day: to stand next to the projectionist and at exactly 10 minutes 47 seconds, mute the film for 20 seconds. As directed by the military censors, this was to prevent the audience from hearing the narration: ‘A few days after <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6681#.YgimpChBzOQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the Mangalsen attack</a>, the army arrived at the airfield and opened fire. Thirty-five people were shot dead. Among them were two children, labourers from other parts of Nepal, including 17 young men from Jogimara.’ As a film-maker I had never been trained to mute the sound track during a public screening. My eyes were glued not on the screen but on the digital time counter on the VHS player.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tA34vvNRsSgA year earlier, the Maoists had broken off peace talks and conducted simultaneous raids on army bases across the country. The government declared an emergency, and for the first time mobilised the Royal Nepal Army against the Maoists. Till then it was the police that was fighting the rebels.Today, we know from many countries that crackdowns on the free press in elected democracies can be more draconian than in authoritarian regimes. Twenty years ago, I faced proof of it in that dark auditorium. I was then with <a href="https://cijnepal.org.np" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the Centre for Investigative Journalism Nepal (CIJ)</a>. Freed from day-to-day journalism, the job allowed me to look at the conflict in perspective, put the daily death tolls into context, and examine the human side of the war, and its impact on ordinary people.I was following the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=13920#.YgiiHChBzOQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Kotbada massacre in Kalikot</a>. News reports were sketchy and contradictory. State media said ‘many terrorists’ had been killed at the under-construction airfield. Another news item buried in the inside pages said that among the ‘terrorists’ were 17 men from <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15172#.YgiiTShBzOQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Jogimara in Dhading district</a>. An RSS report quoted MPs Prem Bahadur Singh from Kalikot and Rajendra Pandey from Dhading as informing the house that the dead were labourers constructing the airfield. <figure><img width="1486" height="1036" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/637209539c7e80680e0b5535jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>My <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/should-journalists-job-extend-beyond-coverage,1881" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">journalist antennae</a> perked up. I heard from reporter Bhupraj Khadka that a family in Jogimara had conducted a funeral of one of the dead even though it had not received his body from the Army.As a film-maker, I felt this could be a way to portray the cruelty and senselessness of war. But there was an insurgency going on, and filming would be difficult and costly. I approached renowned documentary maker Dhruba Basnet, who had made the film रक्ताम्मे गराहरू (Blood-soaked Terraces) and we had worked together in many parts of Nepal.Rajendra Dahal, editor at Himal Khabarpatrika, offered to publish the story. In Jogimara, I met 15 of the 17 families who had lost their men in a massacre 500km at the other end of Nepal in Kotbada. The story came out in Himal, and Nepali Times <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5700#.Ygih3yhBzOQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">translated it in the issue #106</a> of 9-15 August 2002 (screenshots, below). This was a rare exposé of a conflict-era crime.We started working on the video footage, and were convinced it would be an important documentation of the tragedy. We had to do it on a shoe-string budget, and the film finally premiered at KIMFF 2002.There was pin-drop silence during the screening. From time to time, I could hear sobbing in the dark. But I had to concentrate on the approaching 10:47 on the VHS digital clock. At exactly 47 seconds, projectionist Sudarshan Karki muted the sound. The audience had been quiet till then, but I heard murmurs: “They’re censoring.” I had to have a ready answer in the remaining 32 minutes of the film, because the viewers were sure to have questions afterwards. <img width="1750" height="2448" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/637209569c7e80680e0b5536jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="2446" height="1096" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/637209599c7e80680e0b5537jpeg.jpg" alt="">King Gyanendra had just <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5416#.YgikPShBzOQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">sacked elected Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba two months prior</a>, and had appointed Lokendra Bahadur Chand as prime minister. The emergency had been lifted, but now the palace and army were in charge.The Royal Nepal Army had got the district administration and Police Inspector Sukhdev Neupane of Kamal Pokhari station to stop the screening. Neupane called to say his bosses wanted to see the film. I replied that it was shot in a new format, and it would take time to convert. He said the police had state-of-the-art equipment in its tv studio and that wouldn’t be a problem.The police were not just trying to stop my film, but were putting pressure on KIMFF organisers Basanta Thapa and Kanak Mani Dixit to cancel the entire festival. They finally agreed on a compromise: show the film, but mute the parts the military found objectionable.When the screening started, I noticed soldiers in camouflage fatigues enter the hall. They had walkie talkies. When the film ended, there was stunned silence, then applause. The lights went up. I strode to the stage to answer audience questions, and the inevitable one: “Why was the film muted in the middle?”I had prepared my answer, but I saw the soldiers glaring at me from offstage. “The system was working, but it went off for a while,” I said, but could not muster the courage for the rest of my prepared answer: “But don’t ask me whether it was the sound system that was broken, or the country’s system.”I stepped off the stage, telling myself that when confronted with a formidable enemy, it is foolish to wage frontal warfare. It is better to outflank the adversary and go into insurgency mode. The censors had forced me to become a guerrilla film-maker. The 38-minute documentary went on to be a hit, with two additional screenings during the festival. Many wept openly. Basanta Thapa wrote later in Himal: “By trying to censor the film, have we been deprived even of the right to cry for our own country?” After KIMFF 2002, the Ministry of Communications imposed a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4413#.YgikvChBzOQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">censorship rule on all film festival screenings</a>. Since then, there have been many governments that have come and gone in Nepal. But the state has not been able to resist its temptation from time to time to curb the freedom of expression. Mohan Mainali is an author and documentary film-maker.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/6372095c9c7e80680e0b5538jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="145" height="189">

Forbidden to remember the Kotbada massacre

<figure><img width="2400" height="1600" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111140/636b83899c7e80680e067741jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Amidst a dramatic surge in Covid-19 infections in Nepal, Prime Minister K P Oli has announced that all big government and private hospitals and medical colleges will be turned into Covid-19 treatment centres. Wearing a surgical mask in his televised address to the nation on Monday, Oli said hospitals like Bir and the Tri-Chandra Army Hospital in Kathmandu and other big private hospitals in the country would serve only people with Covid-19 infections, while smaller hospitals would be designated for non-Covid-19 patients.   He added that the Nepal Army would be adding 1,000 beds for coronavirus patients in each province as well as in Kathmandu Valley, which has been recording half of all new daily infections nationwide in the past week. Bigger hospitals will be setting up their own oxygen plants, Oli said.  The prime minister’s address appears to have been prompted after widespread criticism that his government had ‘surrendered’ to the second wave that has seen a dramatic increase in daily case load and fatalities in the past month. The daily new Covid-19 cases on Saturday, Sunday and Monday were the highest so far in the pandemic with  5,763, 7,211 and 7,448 testing positive. On Monday, there were 37 fatalities in the past 24 hours, bringing the total tally for Covid-19 deaths to 3,362. Altogether 2,021 people recovered from the disease on Monday, with the number of active cases reaching over 50,000 nationwide. Nepal’s Ministry of Health has said that the Covid-19 spread in the country is not just out of control, but that the proportion of those infected who are seriously ill has also gone up. The Ministry’s statistics show that the number of patients needing ICU and ventilator care has increased rapidly in the past two weeks. Of those patients who needed hospital treatment, 17% were serious enough to need intensive care. The number of active cases in Nepal as of Monday is 54,041, of which 50,171 have mild symptoms and are in home isolation. But there are 3,869 Covid-19 patients in private and government hospitals, of which 578 are in ICU, and of them 141 are on ventilator support. Most of the seriously ill are in Bagmati Province, where Kathmandu Valley is located. Of those hospitalised, 22% in the province are seriously ill, and there are 320 patients in ICU and 88 on ventilators. In Province 2, 26% of those in hospital need intensive care, and the proportion is 33% in Karnali Province. However, only 5% of patients in hospitals in Gandaki Province and 6% in Far-West Province need to be in ICU. <figure><img width="1200" height="621" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111140/636b838d9c7e80680e067742jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>A patient at an isolation ward in Nepalganj. Photo: UMA MAGAR</figcaption></figure>The Ministry of Health warned over the weekend that hospitals were full, and that the pandemic had gone “out of control”, asking people to strictly observe precautions. The government is advising people not to come to hospital unless their oxygen levels drop below 92, but most Nepalis do not have oximeters at home and do not go to hospital until it is too late.This has prompted local municipalities and wards to set up their own isolation centres, and even oxygen-equipped spaces for those needing treatment.In Nepalganj, Bheri Hospital and other hospitals are full, and infected health personnel are forced to treat Covid-19 patients because there has been no backup support from the central government. Nepalganj has therefore converted its training centre into its own isolation and treatment centre with 50 oxygen equipped beds. “We are trying to do what we can, and already the centre has ten patients who need oxygen,” says Nepalganj mayor Dhawal Shumshere Rana, who has spent Rs2 million of the city’s own budget to set it up and staff it with doctors and nurses who work in three shifts. Patients are provided free food and ambulance service. “it was much cheaper to cover the training centre, and we could bring the isolation ward into operation within a week, and we hope this will provide some respite to the overwhelmed hospitals,” Rana says. “We now want to add another centre with 100 beds. We want to make sure no one has to die because they could not get oxygen, or a hospital bed.”Banke district on the Indian border is finding 400 new Covid-19 cases every day, and about a third of them need hospital admission. The new isolation centres are designed to take the pressure off the district’s hospitals which are treating patients from all over Karnali and Far-western Province. Only those needing ICU and ventilators will be sent to hospitals, Rana says.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/our-health-system-cant-contain-the-pandemic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/our-health-system-cant-contain-the-pandemic/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1620125152099000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEFm7L2FXwPP4VPNvvbKh_wensRNg">Health Minister Hridayesh Tripathi</a> told Nepali Times last week that his government would be adding 1,000 hospital beds in Kathmandu to deal with the rush at hospitals in the capital. “Our health system cannot sustain this level of infections,” he said.In Kathmandu, the Social Welfare Council that regulates the activities of non-profit local and international voluntary organisations on Sunday issued a directive requiring them to set aside from 5-20% of their annual budget for Covid-19 related relief.The Council’s Durga Bhattarai said non-profits with main annual budgets up to Rs50 million need to spend 20% of it on helping with the national coronavirus effort, while those with budgets above Rs500 Millie have to set aside 5%. It says the revenue will be used to buy oxygen cylinders, ICU equipment and ventilators, as well as relief for returnee workers from overseas.With more than 25 of Nepal’s 77 districts under some form of lockdown, local governments have been told to enforce the restrictions more strictly, allowing only essential services, medical emergencies and funerals.Government spokesperson Parvat Gurung said the Cabinet on Sunday decided tis suspend all domestic flights from Monday midnight, and all international flights from Wednesday midnight. However, international airlines serving Kathmandu had not been officially notified of the decision.The Cabinet decision on Monday also said that as per the ‘air bubble’ agreement with India, there would be two weekly flights in both directions between Kathmandu and Delhi, but all passengers would have to spend ten days in hotel quarantine in Kathmandu and it would be strictly enforced.Speaking in English at the end of his address, Oli said: "We are of the view that vaccines and critical care medicines are global goods and everyone should have access to it."

Nepal designates more hospitals for Covid-19 treatment

<figure><img width="2400" height="1600" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110131116/636cebac9c7e80680e09ad1ejpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Amidst a dramatic surge in Covid-19 infections in Nepal, Prime Minister K P Oli has announced that all big government and private hospitals and medical colleges will be turned into Covid-19 treatment centres. Wearing a surgical mask in his televised address to the nation on Monday, Oli said hospitals like Bir and the Tri-Chandra Army Hospital in Kathmandu and other big private hospitals in the country would serve only people with Covid-19 infections, while smaller hospitals would be designated for non-Covid-19 patients.   He added that the Nepal Army would be adding 1,000 beds for coronavirus patients in each province as well as in Kathmandu Valley, which has been recording half of all new daily infections nationwide in the past week. Bigger hospitals will be setting up their own oxygen plants, Oli said.  The prime minister’s address appears to have been prompted after widespread criticism that his government had ‘surrendered’ to the second wave that has seen a dramatic increase in daily case load and fatalities in the past month. The daily new Covid-19 cases on Saturday, Sunday and Monday were the highest so far in the pandemic with  5,763, 7,211 and 7,448 testing positive. On Monday, there were 37 fatalities in the past 24 hours, bringing the total tally for Covid-19 deaths to 3,362. Altogether 2,021 people recovered from the disease on Monday, with the number of active cases reaching over 50,000 nationwide. Nepal’s Ministry of Health has said that the Covid-19 spread in the country is not just out of control, but that the proportion of those infected who are seriously ill has also gone up. The Ministry’s statistics show that the number of patients needing ICU and ventilator care has increased rapidly in the past two weeks. Of those patients who needed hospital treatment, 17% were serious enough to need intensive care. The number of active cases in Nepal as of Monday is 54,041, of which 50,171 have mild symptoms and are in home isolation. But there are 3,869 Covid-19 patients in private and government hospitals, of which 578 are in ICU, and of them 141 are on ventilator support. Most of the seriously ill are in Bagmati Province, where Kathmandu Valley is located. Of those hospitalised, 22% in the province are seriously ill, and there are 320 patients in ICU and 88 on ventilators. In Province 2, 26% of those in hospital need intensive care, and the proportion is 33% in Karnali Province. However, only 5% of patients in hospitals in Gandaki Province and 6% in Far-West Province need to be in ICU. <figure><img width="1200" height="621" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110131116/636cebaf9c7e80680e09ad1fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>A patient at an isolation ward in Nepalganj. Photo: UMA MAGAR</figcaption></figure>The Ministry of Health warned over the weekend that hospitals were full, and that the pandemic had gone “out of control”, asking people to strictly observe precautions. The government is advising people not to come to hospital unless their oxygen levels drop below 92, but most Nepalis do not have oximeters at home and do not go to hospital until it is too late.This has prompted local municipalities and wards to set up their own isolation centres, and even oxygen-equipped spaces for those needing treatment.In Nepalganj, Bheri Hospital and other hospitals are full, and infected health personnel are forced to treat Covid-19 patients because there has been no backup support from the central government. Nepalganj has therefore converted its training centre into its own isolation and treatment centre with 50 oxygen equipped beds. “We are trying to do what we can, and already the centre has ten patients who need oxygen,” says Nepalganj mayor Dhawal Shumshere Rana, who has spent Rs2 million of the city’s own budget to set it up and staff it with doctors and nurses who work in three shifts. Patients are provided free food and ambulance service. “it was much cheaper to cover the training centre, and we could bring the isolation ward into operation within a week, and we hope this will provide some respite to the overwhelmed hospitals,” Rana says. “We now want to add another centre with 100 beds. We want to make sure no one has to die because they could not get oxygen, or a hospital bed.”Banke district on the Indian border is finding 400 new Covid-19 cases every day, and about a third of them need hospital admission. The new isolation centres are designed to take the pressure off the district’s hospitals which are treating patients from all over Karnali and Far-western Province. Only those needing ICU and ventilators will be sent to hospitals, Rana says.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/our-health-system-cant-contain-the-pandemic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/our-health-system-cant-contain-the-pandemic/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1620125152099000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEFm7L2FXwPP4VPNvvbKh_wensRNg">Health Minister Hridayesh Tripathi</a> told Nepali Times last week that his government would be adding 1,000 hospital beds in Kathmandu to deal with the rush at hospitals in the capital. “Our health system cannot sustain this level of infections,” he said.In Kathmandu, the Social Welfare Council that regulates the activities of non-profit local and international voluntary organisations on Sunday issued a directive requiring them to set aside from 5-20% of their annual budget for Covid-19 related relief.The Council’s Durga Bhattarai said non-profits with main annual budgets up to Rs50 million need to spend 20% of it on helping with the national coronavirus effort, while those with budgets above Rs500 Millie have to set aside 5%. It says the revenue will be used to buy oxygen cylinders, ICU equipment and ventilators, as well as relief for returnee workers from overseas.With more than 25 of Nepal’s 77 districts under some form of lockdown, local governments have been told to enforce the restrictions more strictly, allowing only essential services, medical emergencies and funerals.Government spokesperson Parvat Gurung said the Cabinet on Sunday decided tis suspend all domestic flights from Monday midnight, and all international flights from Wednesday midnight. However, international airlines serving Kathmandu had not been officially notified of the decision.The Cabinet decision on Monday also said that as per the ‘air bubble’ agreement with India, there would be two weekly flights in both directions between Kathmandu and Delhi, but all passengers would have to spend ten days in hotel quarantine in Kathmandu and it would be strictly enforced.Speaking in English at the end of his address, Oli said: "We are of the view that vaccines and critical care medicines are global goods and everyone should have access to it."

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc489c7e80680e08bc14jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="750" height="452"/><figcaption>A narrow ridge that served as a helipad in Kalikot district back in 2004 when the Maoist War was on its peak. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption></figure>Twenty-five years after the Maoist insurgency started on 13 February 1996, journalists who covered that war remember their own experiences reporting on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/end-of-war-is-not-peace/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the conflict</a>.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc4b9c7e80680e08bc15jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="467"><figcaption>One of the many ruins left behind by a decade long Maoist War 1996-2006.</figcaption></figure>Shivering with fearWe reached Pandusen of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15778#.YCx9Si2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Bajura district</a> in September 2003. Men were ploughing a terrace with two oxen and sowing wheat. We took out our camera and tripod. But when the men saw us, they fled. Later one of them told us, “We are afraid of strangers. We thought you were soldiers.” He told us the army had come through and killed six people in the village, including Padam Bahadur Shahi.At Padam Bahadur’s house, relatives were in mourning. “He had gone to harvest paddy, he had done nothing wrong, ” his mother Koila told us, weeping. “They brought him here and hit him with rocks.”Padam’s father Gorakh Bahadur said the soldiers even kicked their baby grandson, injuring him. “They led my son away and I followed,” he told us. “They were beating him all the way, his teeth were scattered across the road, he was bleeding.”We climbed up the trail to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2027#.YCx9Ty2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Martadi</a>. Within half-an-hour we were at Ramlal Damai’s house. He had been killed with a bullet in his head, and his relatives were wailing as they removed his body from the house. Further up in the village of Angaupani, we came across a whole village in mourning for six men who had been killed by soldiers the previous day.We reached Kolti airfield where 12 police had recently been killed. Nearby, the army had killed another 10 villagers accusing them of being Maoists. A couple was in shock after their children aged 10 and five were killed after a Maoist pipe bomb they found in the forest exploded. All around us there was nothing but death and destruction.A year later, I went to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/a-battered-future,3218" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Kailali</a> and Bardia which had the highest number of disappeared during the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-lingering-trauma-of-war/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">conflict</a>. Their relatives are still waiting for truth and justice.In war, people take to guns. But ultimately it is the gun that takes people away.Mohan Mainali<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc4e9c7e80680e08bc16jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="669"><figcaption>A father trying to stop his young son who had decided to join the Maoists. Khotang 2004.</figcaption></figure>Families torn apartIn February 2000, we travelled to the Maoist heartland of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12393#.YCx-nC2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Rolpa</a>, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6164#.YCx-vC2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Rukum</a> and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2928#.YCx-yC2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Jajarkot</a>. Along the way, we noticed police sentry posts located on treetops for safety. The policemen were playing carom with guns slung on their shoulders. We knew we were entering a war zone. In Libang, we visited Maoist prisoners in the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/the-spark-that-lit-the-Maoist-revolution,2870" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Rolpa</a> district jail. They spoke about being innocent, framed and tortured by the police. We interviewed a Maoist leader, Lokendra Bista. He told us the revolution was actually in response to state violence, but he said the resolution of the conflict was only possible through dialogue, not through violence.In Khalanga of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=328#.YCx-ty2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Rukum</a>, there was also a lot of fear. Many who had been driven out or tortured by the Maoists had fled to the district headquarters for safety. We came across children cooking by themselves. One 11-year-old was kneading dough, but he wept as he told us: “The police killed our father and mother, I feel like drinking the blood from their hearts.”Four years later, we went to eastern Nepal. By this time, the army had joined <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10616#.YCx-lC2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the war</a> and Maoist influence had spread throughout the country. One indelible memory of that time was the farewell of a distraught father in Chisapani of Khotang for his ninth grader student son, Kiran Bista.In the video, the father clutches the boy’s legs and does not want to let go. The boy tries to placate his father: “Don’t do this, Dad. My friends all have fathers. We are all going to war, please don’t do this.”A confident speaker, Kiran later told us later on camera: “I am joining out of my own free will because I have understood that we have to fight for our country.”When we got to Mugu, local Maoists detained us for 22 hours. But it was not till we got to Mudbara of Doti that we found out just how badly the war had affected children. The army had attacked a school in September 2004 after they found out the Maoists had gone there to recruit. Six of the Maoists were killed, but so were four students.“I didn’t even know I had been hit, I was unconscious when they took me to hospital,” said one student Dharma Bhurtel. Her mother, Krishna Maya, broke down as she told us of the pain at seeing her only daughter wounded.Bishnu Prasad was hiding inside a classroom with other students, when soldiers kicked the door in and started shooting. He was hit, and paralysed. “I like to go to school, but I cannot walk now.”Teachers were on the frontlines of the war, and nearly 220 of them were killed by both sides. “After the war started, we were caught in the crossfire. Whichever side fires the guns it is us teachers who get killed,” Ram Bahadur Raut principal of the Chisapani Secondary School in Khotang told us then.Dhruba Basnet<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc529c7e80680e08bc17jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="518"><figcaption>Many Maoist cadre associated carrying guns with being powerful and empowered.</figcaption></figure>Power of the gun<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12319#.YCx_3C2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Children</a> would follow us everywhere. They were very loyal to the Maoist party. Even 10-year-old <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=13190#.YCx_5i2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">children</a> had been so effectively brainwashed that they would speak in Maoist jargon, saying “When the revolution is successful, we will be also be rich and powerful.” And they believed it.We went to homes, and heard families talk about the fear of both the police and guerrillas. The Maoists had ordered every household to contribute at least one person to attend their revolutionary meetings and listen to speeches. We attended those cultural programs, as well. The Maoists cadre were full of enthusiasm and energy, <a href="https://www.google.com/url?client=internal-element-cse&amp;cx=bead8272edd0f2143&amp;q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/still-singing-and-dancing/&amp;sa=U&amp;ved=2ahUKEwiYw6ix8O_uAhUy83MBHRiACWYQFjAAegQIBhAC&amp;usg=AOvVaw06kcWD1ctXQGTrve9YQNmE" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">singing and performing revolutionary dances</a> about the liberation of the proletariat. Villagers watched with interest, but there was fear in their eyes.The armed Maoists looked like they were really empowered. I asked some of them how it felt to be carrying a gun? They used to reply: “I feel powerful, now no one can do anything to me.”Amrita Lamsalhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HzHLTaNnSDo&amp;feature=youtu.beThe smell of fearIn October 2004, we took a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=1890#.YCybTI8zbAU" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">helicopter from Surkhet to Kalikot</a>, flying over the mountains of Dailekh and the Karnali River. On the left we could see Kotbada, where a year previously the Royal Nepal Army had <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2017/02/13/tears-of-joy-and-sorrow-in-kalikot/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">killed 36 workers building an airfield</a>, mistaking them to be Maoist guerrillas. We were in the heart of the conflict zone to understand how the war was affecting ordinary people in the Karnali.<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://himalaya.socanth.cam.ac.uk/collections/journals/nepalitimes/pdf/Nepali_Times_219.pdf" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Kalikot was remote then</a>, as the highway was still being built. At the end of the first day’s walk in Pili, we saw small children slither down from tree tops and scamper off to the village. We found out they were Maoist ‘wholetimers’ on sentry duty.The local Maoists held a village gathering that evening and paraded us on the stage, accusing us of being military spies and “royal mongrels”. The language they used during interrogation that night was straight out of the Khmer Rouge. Two years later, 55 soldiers were killed in a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=721#.YCyBmi2B3R0" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Maoist attack in Pili</a>.Finally let off the next day, we were detained again in Jubitha by 12-13 year-olds with guns. They could not read, and held our press passes upside down. “We are now in the armed struggle phase of our revolution,” said one youngster.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc559c7e80680e08bc18jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="467"><figcaption>Comrade Mukti in Kalikot in 2004.</figcaption></figure>Along the trail, we passed a group of women guerrillas who gave us red salutes and gripped us in firm handshakes. It was a surprise to see such empowered young women in what was at that time, a part of western Nepal most steeped in patriarchy.As we got closer to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/No-peace,432" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Jumla</a> amidst the spectacular scenery of golden terraces of ripening paddy, the blue-green Tila River and the snow-capped Kanjiroba in the distance, there were signs of war damage. Ruins of destroyed homes, charred buildings, empty silent streets. There was no laughter from children, they peered at us from behind upstairs windows, no one talked to strangers. You could smell the fear in the air.Kunda Dixit<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc589c7e80680e08bc19jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="362"><figcaption>Baburam Tamang, one of the 18 Maoist cadre massacred in Ramechap in 2003.</figcaption></figure>The National Human Rights Commission was sending a team to investigate the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4639#.YCylnY8zbAU" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">massacre of 18 Maoist cadre in Doramba</a> of Ramechhap on 17 August 2003. It included former Chief Justice Krishna Jung Rayamajhi, former Attorney General Bhim Bahadur Bista, forensic physician Harihar Awasti, advocate Hari Phuyal and myself. We reached Doramba 11 days after the killings and found the fresh graves.Local Maoists had gathered at the home of Yubaraj Moktan. The army encircled the house, and those who could, escaped. The others were rounded up, and were led off up towards the Sailung forest with hands tied behind their backs. The army unit was led by Major Ram Mani Pokhrel. Down in the village, people heard calls for help, and then gunshots.The villagers helped us exhume the bodies, and Harihar Awasti went down to examine them one by one. He would dictate the details, which I noted down and shared with Hari Phuyal. The stench of rotting bodies was overpowering. Villagers would recognise the faces, and point to them, saying: “That is Bishnu Maya. That is Lila.” Most had been shot at point blank range in the forehead.A young man handed me a 35mm film roll. We developed it, and found images of the bodies had been thrown over the edge after being killed. And there was a photograph of a local man named <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18623" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Baburam Tamang</a>, the only one without a gunshot in the forehead, but in the arm. It looked like he had bled to death.Villagers told us that night they had heard someone up the mountain call out for help “Ama, ama.” But they were too afraid to go up and check. We think it was a dying Baburam Tamang.The villagers had later buried the bodies, wrapping them in cloth and flag. Nearby was a pile of half-burnt personal effects of those who had been killed. Among them, I found a notepad belonging to Bishnu Maya Thapa Magar, one of those who had been killed.Kanak Mani Dixit

From the frontlines of Nepal’s war

<h2>14 years and 11 prime ministers later</h2> Text and photographs by Bikkil SthapitMany of the over 1,300 people still listed as missing after the Maoist war in Nepal left behind material objects. These are the only memories that remain, connecting the families to the loved ones who were disappeared. These memorabilia from the decade-long war are the only substantial things that the family members have protected – 14 years after the conflict ended. They occupy a special place in the family homes and work places, preserving their presence. The objects also keep faint hopes alive that by some miracle, the family member will suddenly reappear one day. More than 17,000 Nepalis were killed during the insurgency, there were brutal human rights violations and war crimes, including summary executions, disappearances, torture, rape, solitary confinement. Since the end of the conflict in 2006, limited support has been provided to survivors and their families of the disappeared. However, there are no answers to questions like whether they are alive or dead, who killed them, why, where, when? The Comprehensive Peace Accord (CPA) was signed on 21 November 2006 between the government of Nepal and the Maoist party. It brought ‘peace’ to a country weary of war, and propelled the former guerrillas to power. However, 14 years and 11 prime ministers later, there have been no efforts to trace the missing, and tell families the truth, or give them justice. Two commissions were formed to investigate gross human rights violations and charge perpetrators, but neither have done much. The discourse around transitional justice in Nepal has approached memory, truth and justice in legalistic terms so that the experience of acute loss of families is often lost. Missing are the personal accounts of survivors and families of victims. <figure><img width="1500" height="1019" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba7fd9c7e80680e0737b7jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption></figcaption></figure><img width="640" height="427" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba8009c7e80680e0737b8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1000" height="1401" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba8039c7e80680e0737b9jpeg.jpg" alt="">When my brother, Ajaya Shahi, earned his first salary he bought this shirt. He was  disappeared by the Army on 19 July, 2004. I have safely kept my brothers’ shirt in a separate box.Bijaya ShahiKirtipur <img width="640" height="427" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba8069c7e80680e0737bajpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="640" height="897" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba8099c7e80680e0737bbjpeg.jpg" alt="">My father used to make bronze Buddhas. Why is the army still not telling us what happened to him? Will this bring the peace to the country?Nagma MaliDaughter of Nanda Gopal MaliThecho, Lalitpur <img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba80c9c7e80680e0737bcjpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141112/636ba80f9c7e80680e0737bdjpeg.jpg" alt="">My husband used to carry this sickle all the time in the rice field. It has been lying here ever since he was disappeared, and it is rusted. I have been keeping it safely as his last memento.Ramkali Devi TharuWife of Guru Prasad KathariyaRajapur, Bardia <img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8139c7e80680e0737bejpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8169c7e80680e0737bfjpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8199c7e80680e0737c0jpeg.jpg" alt="">My son used to recite from this Bible at church where we went together. I have kept this Bible thinking he will return some day. When that happens I will hand it over to him.Ratna Kumari MaliMother of Baburaja MaliGodavari, Lalitpur. <figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba81c9c7e80680e0737c1jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption></figcaption></figure>My son used the this plough whenever we went to the fields together. Today, we only have the plough. I cannot use it, and my son cannot use it.Surjan TharuBardia <img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba81f9c7e80680e0737c2jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8229c7e80680e0737c3jpeg.jpg" alt="">He started to work for a pharmacy to manage the household expenses after his father died. This wall clock is the first thing he bought from his salary.I keep looking at it to pass the time till my son returns home. Mohan Maya MaliMother of Rajendra MaliGodavari, Lalitpur.During his 14-month-long jail time, my brother used to send us letters by hiding them inside biscuits and noodle packets. That's how we received this letter too. Butter Cracker and Wai Wai noodles still remind me of him. Even today, whenever I see biscuit and noodles, I anxiously think there might be a letter in it from him.He was in touch with our family until 22 November, 2003. The last letter that we received was written from Sundhara Central Jail.Sapana SuwarnakarSister of the disappeared Ashok AkelaBorlang-5, Gorkha <img width="1131" height="1500" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8269c7e80680e0737c4jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1000" height="1500" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8299c7e80680e0737c5jpeg.jpg" alt="">I was taken to Bhairabnath Batallion on 12 December, 2004. I was wearing this sweater when the army freed me and dropped me off at Banasthali Chok on February 17, 2005. Swatantra Chaulagain of Bhote Chaur, Sindhupalchok, had given me this sweater while we were in the army camp together. “Please register my name at Amnesty. Don’t quit the party if you return safely,” he had told me.Swatantra Chaulagain is still missing.Ujjwal Acharya (name changed)KavreBikkil Sthapit is a rights activist and a photographer who has been documenting the issue of enforced disappearances in Nepal. He also runs the oral history initiative SunaMeroKatha.com These profiles were prepared during the Memory, Truth &amp; Justice project of VOW Media.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <h2>“We went everywhere, but we got no answers” </h2> Text and photographs by Sabrina Dangol <figure><img width="1500" height="1002" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba82c9c7e80680e0737c6jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>The doorway to Ram Maya’s rented room.</figcaption></figure><figure><img width="1500" height="1002" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba82f9c7e80680e0737c7jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Ram Maya Nakarmi’s husband Padma Narayan's picture on the wall.</figcaption></figure><figure><img width="1500" height="1001" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8339c7e80680e0737c8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>A collection of old pictures of Ram Maya’s husband and relatives.</figcaption></figure>Ram Maya Nakarmi, 44, is packing up all her belongings as she prepares to move her residence again. She has been renting a one-bedroom flat with her only daughter, Lumana Nakarmi.It will be the fourth time she moves homes in the last five years, after the 2015 earthquake destroyed her old house, the same one where her husband, Padam Narayan Nakarmi, was forcefully taken away in 2003.Padam Narayan used to work as an ironmonger in a small grill shop in Bungmati. They had been married for five years, and Ram Maya knew that he had been in touch with the Maoist party off and on."Deep down I knew it was coming," she says, remembering that eight of his friends had got arrested a few days earlier.When they came for him, it all happened so fast that she only remembers pleading with the security personnel to let her accompany him to the police station. They refused, but assured her he would return the next day. It has been 17 years, and she never saw her husband again."When they came for Padam, they climbed into our room through a ladder. They didn't even knock or give us a time to decide anything,” Ram Maya recalls. “If I had known back then, I would have locked all the doors and windows shut."<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8379c7e80680e0737c9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="999">Ram Maya retrieving her husband’s picture from her purse.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba83a9c7e80680e0737cajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1482" height="988">Ram Maya’s reflection caught in the mirror. <figure><img width="640" height="928" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba83e9c7e80680e0737cbjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Portrait of Ram Maya Nakarmi in her rented home in Bungamati.</figcaption></figure>In the months following her husband’s arrest, Ram Maya went to police stations almost every day, walking up to 10km into town and back. Buses were scarce and the fare was expensive. Some of his friends were freed and told her that they had all been together in Bhairabnath Battalion base in Maharajganj for months.Later, Padam Narayan had been separated and taken somewhere else. So, Ram Maya visited Bhairabnath and the army base in Lagankhel regularly for two years.Her daughter Lumana, who was four years old, kept asking for her father. So she took her small child with her to Maharajganj and pleaded with the authorities to at least let her daughter see her father, but they did not allow her.Ram Maya was told to go to the Royal Nepal Army headquarters, and she kept going there, but no one wanted to tell her anything."I am not literate. I don't have people skills, nor can I present an argument properly. My brother-in-law helped me and accompanied me everywhere, but it was of no use. We got no answers," she recalls. <figure><img width="1500" height="999" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8419c7e80680e0737ccjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Ram Maya’s daughter Lumana Nakarmi working in her laptop.</figcaption></figure><figure><img width="1500" height="1002" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8439c7e80680e0737cdjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Ram Maya Nakarmi looking out of the window from her rented room in Bungamati.</figcaption></figure>Ram Maya's in-laws supported her for the first two years of her search, but they also lost hope. Her daughter also stopped asking about her father, and stopped even mentioning him.She got a factory job in Bungamati and focused on raising her daughter, who is now 20, studying and working at the same time. Neither mother nor daughter likes to remember those dark days any more. Ram Maya says, "We somehow survived amidst all the chaos and grief, but it feels like a part of both of our lives have been lost. I say that I have given up, but deep down I still hope for his return.”More on series of features for the International Day of Disappeared:<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-empty-chairs/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The empty chairs</a>, Guligo Jia<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/disappearance-of-justice/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Disapperance of justice</a>, Sabrina Dangol

Only memories remain

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141132/636bac6c9c7e80680e077f2fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="780"/><figcaption>Himani Tharu is so frustrated with her job as the only female mahout in a Bardia National Park elephant camp that she mustered the courage to speak to a journalist. Photo: MUKESH POKHREL</figcaption></figure>Himani Tharu may be the first female elephant mahout serving in Nepal's national parks, but her story is hardly inspirational.Instead, it exposes a system that is unable to welcome gender inclusivity. She faces double discrimination: first because she is a woman and second for belonging to an indigenous community.Harassed by her lower-level co-workers, and ignored by senior staff, Himani says she hopes no one will follow in her footsteps and become a female mahout.“I wouldn’t wish this much suffering upon anyone,” she says.Born on the outskirts of the Bardia National Park, Himani Tharu, 27, grew up close to elephant sanctuaries, and was familiar with both elephants and the people who cared for them.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/3-4th-of-the-sky/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">3/4th of the sky</a>, EditorialDespite that, Himani did not really want to become a mahout. She had plans to graduate from school and get a regular office job. But ten years ago, the Public Service Commission put out a notice for the position of a female mahout, and her family encouraged her to apply because it supposed to be a stable government job.Himani struggled to keep up with the demands of her new profession: she had to learn to take care of elephants, collect grass, take the elephants out to graze, constantly feed them, and clean up after them. She was also required to ride the elephants on the Nepal Army’s jungle patrols.She loved the elephants, especially a baby one, and made friends with them. It was her human co-workers who were unhelpful, disrespectful and ordered her around.“Sometimes they would leave me alone in the middle of the jungle and I would get lost. Other times they would lead my elephant into the river and leave it there,” she says.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-better-halves/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s better halves</a>, Anil ChitrakarAs the only female among 30 mahouts at the national park, she is often targetted for bullying and harassment, but there is no one she could talk to because of the park's hierarchy.“Had there been about three or four of us women, they would not have dared misbehave but I am the only woman,” says Himani, recalling how her colleagues would deliberately make loud obscene conversations when she was around. When she told them to stop, they scolded her instead.Himani faced constant attacks on her character and integrity. Every time she even spoke to a fellow-mahout or asked for help from a male co-worker, she would subject to vicious teasing.“One of the senior male mahouts used to help me, but after other men in the camp started associating us he was intimidated and stopped coming near me,” says Himani.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/betterforbalance/">#BalanceforBetter</a>, Namrata SharmaAll complaints to senior officers at the camp were ignored, and Himani felt there was no point reporting her colleagues anymore when they engaged in lewd conversation when she was around.The whole system is gender-blind. The elephant camp does not have separate quarters for women, and she has to sleep in a dorm with 15 other men. It is worse when she had to go on overnight jungle patrols in Bardia National Park.Fed up with the treatment and frustrated with her job, Himani mustered the courage to speak frankly to a journalist. She said she had packed up to quit her job many times, but was always persuaded by her relatives and friends to stick it out.She says: “I am determined to find another job, and finally resign during this lockdown. I have put up with everything for so long, I don’t know how long I can take this.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/epidemic-of-online-sexism/">Epidemic of online sexism</a>, Shusma Barali<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Online-violence-against-women,2915" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Online violence against women</a>, Sahina Shrestha

Don’t follow my footsteps, says female mahout

Nepal’s former king Gyanendra was greeted by flag-waving supporters as he arrived at Kathmandu Airport on Sunday afternoon from Pokhara after attending pro-monarchy rallies in various parts of the country. Gyanendra and his family were escorted from the airport by supporters to his residence at Nirmal Niwas, where his family has been living since 2008 when the Constituent Assembly abolished the monarchy. The 2015 Constitution then turned Nepal into a federal democratic republic. The deposed monarch had been on a two-month long tour of religious sites and local communities across western Nepal, ending in a two-week stay in Pokhara. After staying out of controversy, Gyanendra made a statement on Nepal’s Democracy Day last month in which he said he was willing to play a role in “saving the country”. There has been a surge of pro-monarchy posts and videos on social media, where the country’s previous kings have been glorified as being nationalists who were respected by the international community.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_07b324fee8d082ed3f8566544e24d45fcd600bbb122374fc39c7a94ce3d044f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250309120340_07b324fee8d082ed3f8566544e24d45fcd600bbb122374fc39c7a94ce3d044f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1914" height="1276" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_769f688f3a5eb3602f4c24c350ba1caa6965a171c079d783e28db0f746b810d0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250309120340_769f688f3a5eb3602f4c24c350ba1caa6965a171c079d783e28db0f746b810d0" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>  Nepal’s monarchists, which include Gyanendra’s backers, several pro-monarchist parties and other anti-government figures, think <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/new-year-same-difference">public disillusionment </a>with the country’s ageing and ineffective leaders and institutions is at breaking point.&nbsp; There is also disappointment with elected leaders and technocrats from new parties like the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP), with its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rabi-s-detention-churns-nepali-politics">leader Rabi Lamichhane under investigation</a> for his alleged involvement in a scandal involving diverting funds from cooperatives. One of the staunchest backers of Gyanendra’s comeback as king is former BBC journalist Rabindra Mishra, who has been active on social media platforms posting videos and text extolling the monarchy. He has referenced recent street uprisings in Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, and Syria, cautioning Nepal’s mainstream leaders not to dismiss support for the monarchy. ‘Support for a return to monarchy is increasing even though the mainstream parties may dismiss it,’ wrote Mishra. ‘Like the leaders of Sri Lanka and Bangladesh, they should not try to suppress the voices on the streets.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_d8758f6b7474c9f3aea3661ccd60955d8553971cb0d799039bbfd232aa1a0691.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250309120340_d8758f6b7474c9f3aea3661ccd60955d8553971cb0d799039bbfd232aa1a0691" data-rendition-name="original" width="1890" height="1260" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_63613759744c0fac33ff3eabc298079c3e525063882f4b3760954bbc0833b5cd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250309120340_63613759744c0fac33ff3eabc298079c3e525063882f4b3760954bbc0833b5cd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>  But for all their bluster, Nepal’s mainstream politicians who have rotated leadership of the country between themselves, seem worried about the crowds on the streets in support of the monarchy. The TikTok ban last year, which the government said was to ‘maintain social harmony’ was put into effect to prevent pro-monarchy groups from organising on the platform. The ban on TikTok has now been lifted, and supporters of the monarchy have mobilised platforms to fan nostalgia of the golden age of royalty, and to brand former kings Mahendra and Birendra as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/a-past-foretold">nationalists who upheld Nepal’s sovereignty during the Cold War</a> and commanded respect worldwide. Archival video clips of Mahendra being received by President Eisenhower in 1960 and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/if-birendra-was-alive-nepal-could-still-be-a-monarchy">Birendra </a>by President Reagan in 1983 have been liked by thousands. Comments contrast this to the incompetence and poor standing of Nepal’s current prime ministers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_7dab05f5703e17a82da73277f0b39bf178c1005e0758aa50077ffe1a037f4af6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250309120340_7dab05f5703e17a82da73277f0b39bf178c1005e0758aa50077ffe1a037f4af6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1810" height="1206" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_1ab38cdccfd076babd78579fa345520a7b2fa9c838322226a259540c8c290437.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250309120340_1ab38cdccfd076babd78579fa345520a7b2fa9c838322226a259540c8c290437" data-rendition-name="original" width="1812" height="1206" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>  While most of the people present at the demonstration included the older demographic, younger people have especially used social media to express their support for the monarchy. Young Nepalis, disillusioned with leaders who have been prime minister multiple times since the mid-1990s, are attracted to the idea of reinstating the monarchy as a form of anti-incumbent protest, but also because they have little to no memory of living under an authoritarian absolute monarchy. ‘Those who say the monarchy is paramount today are the ones who did not live through it in the past, and are dissatisfied with the current state of affairs,’ wrote Guna Raj Luitel, Chief Editor of Nagarik Daily, in an op-ed in the newspaper on Sunday.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_720d0059207b9918def39e983d9b5c114b6afb4e7ac0ed1dadd2cba2f20f9aa6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250309120340_720d0059207b9918def39e983d9b5c114b6afb4e7ac0ed1dadd2cba2f20f9aa6" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_bfe50ebd413d1b177ebd02df5f837038d8a04c9d343afe39be1ebcde36db893a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250309120340_bfe50ebd413d1b177ebd02df5f837038d8a04c9d343afe39be1ebcde36db893a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>  He added: ‘For those of us who have spent parts of our lives under the rule of the king… we have not yet forgotten those days, when the institution was unable to do any useful work, a disheartening period characterised by Nepalis being unable to speak freely.’ Commentators have especially been pointing to Gyanendra’s military coup in 2005 when he dissolved parliament, and tried to take the country back to the time of absolute monarchy, just like his father Mahendra did in 1960. Gyanendra became king after his brother and most of his family were killed in the royal palace massacre in 2001. Many Nepalis still seem to believe that Gyanendra was responsible, and some of this is reflected in comments on monarchist social media posts. As the monarchist rallies spread, Prime Minister K P Oli said last week that if Gyanendra really wanted power, he should form a political party and run in the next elections in 2027. Other leaders have urged the former king to honour the 2008 Constitutional Assembly decision to abolish the monarchy, as well as Nepal’s 2015 Constitution.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_978ef979c7774312ac00d3192803d974ea57ec45d704f89663b301f4f0cc9704.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250309120340_978ef979c7774312ac00d3192803d974ea57ec45d704f89663b301f4f0cc9704" data-rendition-name="original" width="1832" height="1221" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250309120340_d11276de0161d258f135e8fba4d3eb37d0a9e579b06a4819c6609b4ecdbbe51e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20250309120340_d11276de0161d258f135e8fba4d3eb37d0a9e579b06a4819c6609b4ecdbbe51e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal NT"> </figure>  &nbsp;In response, royalist leaders including Kamal Thapa, Rajendra Lingden, and Rabindra Mishra have responded that the monarchy is above the electoral system, calling for the reinstatement of a constitutional monarchy in which Gyanendra would be a figurehead. “There is no question of the king contesting an election, that is our job,” said RPP-Nepal chair Kamal Thapa in a tv interview. “The monarchy is a custodian of the nation, it is an institution above electoral politics.” However, there does seem to be a disagreement between hardline royalists who want a return to absolute monarchy in which Gyanendra would actually hold executive powers, and those who favour a ceremonial one. Gyanendra recently visited Bhutan, where he was given a royal welcome, and has made several trips to India where there is some support for reinstating Nepal as the world’s only Hindu kingdom.

The ghost of monarchy returns to haunt Nepal

Kathmandu was once a lake inhabited by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/snakes-on-plains">serpents</a>, until Manjushree visiting from present-day China saw a fluorescent lotus in the water. To reach it, the sage used his flaming sword to cut a gorge <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/dry-port-at-chobhar-faces-resistance">at Chobhar</a>, draining the lake and turning it into a fertile valley. The Manjushree Trail Race (MTR) is inspired by this legend. There are five categories along a near-circular route around the rim of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/bringing-silicon-valley-to-kathmandu-valley">Kathmandu Valley</a>: 10k, 30k, 50k, 100k, and one that is 100 miles that is 157.7km (map, right). The 100 miles category starts at 8AM on 14 March, and runners have 52 hours until noon on 16 March to complete it. Arjun Kulung Rai’s 26:52:56 is the current record, set in 2024. “<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17327">The Manjushree legend</a> and the perfect loop make the race very meaningful, and I wanted to do it,” says participant Dong Sheng from the northern Chinese city of Harbin who started running in 2016 with 5k until he accomplished a 100 miler in 2022. “<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/first-edition-ultra-trail-kathmandu,1050">Running </a>is spiritual, as you are always trying to overcome what you could previously do.” Sheng is one of 131 international runners who have signed up for the Manjushree race, where there are a total of 502 participants this year, 94 of them women. The first edition of the race only had 7 runners total. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-trail-running-champions">Nepali trail running champions</a>, Preeti Khattri “A reason this race is popular is because it is a good mix of rural and accessible,” says Jimmy Oostrom, a Dutch runner. “Often, 100-milers are way out of the way. Here, the start is only a short drive after landing in Kathmandu.”&nbsp; The 100 mile and 50km are now qualifier races for the Asia Trail Masters, an international series of trail races based in Hong Kong. Last year, a Nepali team competed and won in the Asia Trail Master Championship series in Borneo. The 100-mile category starts and finishes at Single Tree on Nagarjun, other distances have different start and end points. On the winning team was Rashila Tamang, who is part of Trailmandu that implements logistics for the race, such as recruiting and training volunteers, and marking the route. “Nepal has great <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9938">geography</a> for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/mira-rai-racing-to-help-other-runners">trail running</a>, but it is still very hard to make it your career,” says Tamang.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025031219034_98b83aa3d42c7d5e8a2ef2f80dc03512374413e31eb55441234cd075bea7e113.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2025031219034_98b83aa3d42c7d5e8a2ef2f80dc03512374413e31eb55441234cd075bea7e113" data-rendition-name="original" width="1244" height="598" loading="lazy" alt="Manjushree Trail map "> </figure>  The MTR has a guidebook detailing the categories, route, checkpoints, rules and what is available at each stop.&nbsp; “If we say we’re going to start at 8, we’re going to start at 8,” says Narayan Acharya, the man behind naming the race ‘Manjushree’. “People tried to sign up after the deadline, we had to tell them no.” Acharya who builds <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/foundations-for-sustainable-buildings-in-nepal">traditional rammed earth houses</a> through his company Sustainable Future Nepal, has been long involved with promoting trail running in Nepal, and hailing from Jumla himself, mentored <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/run-sunmaya-run">Sunmaya Budha</a> also from Jumla, now a trail running star in and outside Nepal. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/sunmaya-budha-stays-in-the-running">Sunmaya Budha stays in the running</a>, Vishad Raj Onta&nbsp; The organisers are sponsoring up to 50 runners from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/portrait-of-a-photographer-in-rural-nepal">rural Nepal</a> who may not afford the Rs6,000 entry fee to participate. “It is hard to get sponsors to give us money because Nepal is still a pretty small market,” says Oostrom, currently on crutches due to an ACL injury. “We also have to take the necessary precautions to make sure we can quickly help a runner in trouble.” The logistics of an ultra trail race are more complicated than a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=1223">marathon</a>. Marking and maintaining the trail requires careful work, especially as signs often get lost. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-steadfastness-of-a-long-distance-runner">long distances </a>also require runners to run through the night.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025031219030_19111e03939541b8980007437c89966dc7a8fd6246b8407440694503bf7890a3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="2025031219030_19111e03939541b8980007437c89966dc7a8fd6246b8407440694503bf7890a3" data-rendition-name="original" width="2250" height="1501" loading="lazy" alt="Manjushree Trail "> </figure>  A <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/buddha-air-gets-state-of-the-art-flight-tracking-system">live tracking system </a>would ensure a runner’s safety as well as prevent cheating, but for now organisers are relying on vigilant volunteers and fellow runners to find runners needing help. There are strict rules for the race, and breaking them can result in significant time penalties or even disqualification. Get food or drink assistance outside of the checkpoints and you get a penalty of 15 minutes. Miss any pieces of mandatory gear and an hour is added to your time. Take some sort of shortcut or cheat using a vehicle, and you are disqualified. There are dangers like cliffs <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/cantilever-trail-nepal">along the trail</a>, lightning on exposed ridges, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/disasters-in-nepal-come-in-waves">landslides caused by earthquakes</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/trekking-to-save-nepals-snow-leopards">leopards</a>, and hornet swarms. Ultra running takes a massive toll on the body. The brain may shut off certain areas to be able to keep going, so volunteers watch runners carefully.&nbsp; “After mile 50, your body starts digesting itself,” says Oostrom.&nbsp; Alongside Acharya and Oostrom, the organising crew is made up of race director Ashish Mishra, and Jeevan Lama and Rashila Tamang from Trailmandu. “We can execute this race well because we are all passionate runners ourselves,” says Acharya. The team has taken measures to make the race safe and comfortable for female participants. ‘Run freely, speak openly, and wear what makes you feel comfortable in our races,’ says the guidebook. Prize money is the same for male and female winners, across categories.&nbsp; Lately, Nepal has been steadily building itself as a destination for<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/taking-the-high-line"> adventure sports </a>such as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-pushes-mountain-bike-tourism">mountain biking</a> and trail running. And with the Manjushree race, enthusiasts have hopes to set the standard for other trail races in the country. Sheng has been part of big races in China. “The better the economy, and more money people have, the more they can get involved in such pursuits,” he says. “But I have to say, for the scale of this race, everything has been done very professionally.”&nbsp;

Around Kathmandu in 100 miles

Throughout human history, civilisations have been named after the rivers along which they flourished: Indus Valley, Nile, Tigris-Euphrates. Many of these cultures later collapsed, partly because they could not manage their water needs properly. Three recent books about Himalayan rivers look at their history and geography, and how they nourished civilisations downstream. The rivers gave birth to the world’s major religions, their waters and the mountains from which they sprang were revered. Mythology and geology converge in High Asia. Mt Kailash is holy to the Hindu, Jain, Buddhist and Bon faiths as the centre of the world and the abode of the gods. Indeed, from its vicinity emerge Asia’s great rivers: the Indus and Sutlej, Ganga and the Yarlung Tsangpo (Brahmaputra) and Karnali (Mapcha Tsangpo).&nbsp; Legend has it that Kathmandu Valley was once a primordial lake drained by Manjushree who cut a mountain with his flaming sword. There is scientific evidence that the paleo lake was indeed emptied in stages starting 40,000 years ago after a tsunami unleashed by a major earthquake epicentred in Langtang. The Bon faith describes the Tibetan Plateau being pushed up from a roiling primeval sea, confirming current evidence about the orogenesis of the Himalaya. In local lore, supernatural lha (animal deities) and lu (serpents, naga) moved from sea to land, just as the theory of evolution explains the emergence of early amphibians and land creatures. In <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Rivers-of-the-Asian-Highlands-From-Deep-Time-to-the-Climate-Crisis/Gamble-Tan-Xu-Beavis-Maurer-Pittock-Powers-Wasson/p/book/9781032490595?srsltid=AfmBOopjkpgcN1_7t1jTI_Z1_27yRthBTbdHA15OWcE9Ge3S409jhUX3">Rivers of the Asian Highlands: From Deep Time to the Climate Crisis</a>, Himalayan historian <a href="https://scholars.latrobe.edu.au/rgamble">Ruth Gamble</a> and co-authors begin by tracing the genesis of the Himalaya, citing evidence that the Tibetan Plateau pre-dated the collision of the Indian and Eurasian plates 50 million years ago. Asia’s main rivers co-emerged with the mountains, their waters cutting canyons through rocks as they were uplifted. The gigantic pileup acted as a moisture trap for the proto-monsoon, the rain and ice sculpting peaks as they rose. But so strong were tectonic forces that the uplift outpaced erosion on the Tibetan Plateau. These dynamic processes are still at work, but in many places across High Asia there is a new factor at play: modern infrastructure (like haphazard road-building in Nepal) is increasing erosion faster than the uplift rate.&nbsp; ‘This is an example of human action overcoming tectonics,’ write the authors in Rivers of the Asian Highlands, in which the chapters look at Himalayan rivers from a planetary scale, their socio-cultural histories, to present-day engineering to regulate them. An ongoing dam-building spree and anthropogenic climate breakdown combine to bring about the most rapid change the Himalaya and their rivers have seen for millions of years. One example is the Medog Hydropower Station being built on the Yarlung Tsangpo at a bend on the Brahmaputra before it enters India. The river drops 2,000m within a 50km stretch, the gradient allowing it to generate 60,000MW — the biggest single hydroelectric plant in the world. Gamble and the authors of Rivers of the Asian Highlands highlight the Gravitational Potential Energy (GPE) of the Himalaya that allows falling water to be converted into electricity. But GPE also unleashes landslides, rockfalls, avalanches, Glacial Lake Outburst Floods (GLOFs) and Landslide Lake Outburst Floods (LLOFs), the risks posed by them magnified by climate change and seismicity. <blockquote>The Asian Highlands’ abundance of Gravitational Potential Energy (GPE) can support the region’s energy transition, but it needs to be produced in much less hazardous and less environmentally and socially impactful ways. The best means of doing this is through off-river, pumped-storage hydropower stations that back up solar and wind energy generators. Smaller projects such as this would also involve less risky tunneling and displacement.</blockquote> Rivers of the Asian Highlands: From Deep Time to the Climate Crisis by Ruth Gamble, et al. There is geological evidence that megafloods on Himalayan rivers are more responsible than mass wasting in weathering down the mountains. One big LLOF, for example, could ‘move 1,000 times more sediment than would otherwise be transported over millions of years’. Permafrost melting in the Tibetan Plateau and inside moraines caused recent back-to-back GLOFs in Chamoli in the Indian Himalaya, Melamchi in Nepal, and the South Lhonak in Sikkim — all deadly disasters that together destroyed billions of dollars worth of infrastructure downstream. Rivers of the Asian Highlands travels from deep time to the present climate crisis, taking readers through neatly divided chapters titled Mountain Rivers, Climatic Rivers, Frozen Rivers, Living Rivers, Human Rivers, Territorializing Rivers, Agricultural and Pastoral Rivers, even NGOs and Rivers.&nbsp; Although the book’s title is about the ‘Asian highlands’, it <a href="https://www.himalmag.com/comment/eastern-himalaya-cradle-ethnogenesis">focuses mainly on the Dri Chu (Yangtse)</a> and Yarlung Tso (Brahmaputra). Readers looking for references to Nepal’s rivers will be disappointed, although there is quite a bit about Bhutan. This is surprising because 70% of the annual flow in the Ganga is from tributaries in Nepal, some of them rivers like Karnali, Arun or Bhote Kosi that traverse the Tibetan rimlands. As demand for water and energy grows in the large and increasingly affluent population of north India, and climate breakdown melts Himalayan glaciers, storing monsoon runoff on reservoirs in Nepal is going to be the geopolitical issue of the next decades.&nbsp; The chapter on NGOs and Rivers also fails to cite the work of Nepal’s civil society groups like the Alliance for Energy that built international solidarity in 1995 against the Arun III project on a river that starts in Tibet and flows into Nepal. Ultimately, the World Bank pulled out of the project and the Nepal government invested in smaller decentralised plants. Today, a cascade of power plants are being built by Indian companies on the Arun which do not seem to have taken into account the <a href="https://www.science.org/doi/10.1126/science.ads2659">2023 Sikkim GLOF</a> that swept away the $1 billion dollar Teesta III and destroyed other infrastructure. The World Bank itself is back with the Upper Arun project located directly below expanding glacial lakes in Tibet.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250222020256_f2b33e60e6b386308bdf59b58b59e116e90e2e4466a06200faf76fd851f53505.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250222020256_f2b33e60e6b386308bdf59b58b59e116e90e2e4466a06200faf76fd851f53505" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="3213" loading="lazy" alt="Teesta"> <figcaption>The Super Trisuli project in Nepal has ruined the most scenic and ecologically sensitive part of the river to generate just 100MW of power. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption> </figure>  Despite geographical gaps, Rivers of the Asian Highlands reads like an encyclopedia of Himalayan rivers. The authors look at them not in isolation but as interconnected systems which need a multidisciplinary approach to study the geological, religio-cultural, infrastructure, climate and ecosystem services aspects of catchments.&nbsp; Mt Kailash (Kang Rinpoche) is a case in point. It is fascinating to think that it was part of a mountain range even before the collision of the continents that formed the Himalaya, and was probably buried in ice 3km thick till 15,000 years ago during the Last Glacial Maximum.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025022203020_23c02ec4671f5c3c561fa6b450c1f209720a25794e067b9bb5db0f4649b1b6dc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025022203020_23c02ec4671f5c3c561fa6b450c1f209720a25794e067b9bb5db0f4649b1b6dc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Mt Kailash"> <figcaption>Mt Kailash. Photo: NABIN BARAL</figcaption> </figure>  Lake Mansarovar and Mt Kailash are also the subject of the new Nepali language book छालबाटो (Road by the Waves) by environmental journalist <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-and-china-to-study-trans-himalayan-railway">Ramesh Bhushal</a> in which he walked, rafted and drove from the source of the Karnali in Tibet, right through 500km of western Nepal, and on to India <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/dancing-with-the-river">where the river meets the Ganga</a>. In his entourage is activist, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Comment/rivers-fighting-back,993">Megh Ale</a>, who is on a campaign to stop dams and infrastructure on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/dams-and-dreams-a-journey-down-the-karnali">Nepal’s longest and only free-flowing river</a>. The book profiles his lonely upstream struggle to conserve the country’s rivers. “We worship rivers, but we don’t love them,” laments Ale. Bhushal’s book is as much about the landscape of this transboundary river as it is about the people he meets along the way, and their relationship with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-denial-in-the-himalaya">a river that most regard as a curse </a>keeping them poor because they believe it flows out of Rakshas Tal (Lagngar Tso) in Tibet, regarded as a lake of demons, unlike the sacred Mansarovar nearby. The expedition is out to prove that the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/a-karnali-portrait">Karnali River</a> actually starts in the mountains 50km southwest of the Mansarovar (Mapamyu Tso) at the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQ9Za5QDkvY">Peacock Falls (Mapchu Khambap)</a>. The Indus is called Sengge (Lion), Sutlej is Langchen (elephant) and the Brahmaputra is Tamchok (horse), all starting within 60km of Mansarovar but flowing out in different directions. <blockquote>“I have visited hundreds of rivers around the world, but for some reason I have never seen a river as beautiful as the Karnali. One day I would like to visit its source.”</blockquote> River conservation activist Megh Ale quoted in छालबाटो by Ramesh Bhusal. But all this reverence for the mountains and rivers may not be enough to save the region from the impact of climate breakdown. Heat stress in the Subcontinent will coincide with a shortage of water in the coming decades.&nbsp; <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/12/01/opinion/himalayas-mountains-dams.html">Sunil Amrith</a> in his 2019 book, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-monsoon-and-nature-s-arithmetic">Unruly Waters: How Mountain Rivers and Monsoons Have Shaped South Asia’s History</a> takes a broader look at how geotectonics, geopolitics, colonialism and nationalism have determined the relations between human beings and rivers. The Himalayan water cycle starts from monsoon moisture that precipitates with orographic uplift along the mountains, atmospheric rivers unleash cloudbursts, ground water emerges from springs that join up to flow down to rivers and the ocean. The Third Pole is the biggest repository of fresh water stored as ice after the polar regions. But it is a hotspot both because of the climate crisis and geopolitical tensions, which impacts on river basin cooperation, early warning data sharing, and ultimately in mitigation of greenhouse gas emission and planning for new risks faced by infrastructure. After independence, India adopted the colonial extraction model for rivers. Inaugurating the Bhakra-Nangal Dam in 1953, Jawaharlal Nehru called it “a temple of &nbsp;modern India … worthy of worship’. Gamble also alludes to this in her book about the European attitude about rivers as a resource to be ‘enclosed, extracted, scrutinised, commodified’. <a href="https://dialogue.earth/en/water/review-unrully-waters/" target="_blank">Amrith</a> profiles the work of Sir Arthur Cotton who was building canals linking rivers in British India at about the same time his contemporaries like botanist <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/republic-of-nepal-s-animal-kingdom" target="_blank">Joseph Dalton-Hooker </a>were exploring the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-kangchenjunga" target="_blank">Teesta and other rivers</a> in the Himalaya to catalogue new plant species. India's current National River Linking Project that would join 37 rivers with 9,000km of canals builds on Cotton’s early work. <blockquote>If there is one consistent lesson in Unruly Waters, it is that water management never has been, and can never be, a purely technical or a scientific question; neither can it be addressed on a purely national scale … the battle continues to understand the monsoons and mountain rivers that shape Asia.</blockquote> Unruly Waters: How Mountain Rivers and Monsoons Have Shaped South Asia’s History by Sunil Amrith And in Nepal, hydropower has become the holy grail as the government unveiled an Energy Development Roadmap to generate 28,500MW by 2035 at a cumulative cost of nearly $50billion. This means no river in Nepal will be left free-flowing. The Trisuli along the Prithvi Highway is being dammed for only 100MW of power, destroying the most scenic part of a river that has rapids famous internationally for white water rafters. Even before it was completed, the dam site suffered Rs200 million in damage in last September’s flood.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025022203020_d9610a11bccb593d32bf4d214479caa17dfbdd6cdfe5e8c38fdcb8eb752fc0ec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="2025022203020_d9610a11bccb593d32bf4d214479caa17dfbdd6cdfe5e8c38fdcb8eb752fc0ec" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="Trisuli"> <figcaption>Boulders and sediment 80m deep were brought down by the Teesta after a GLOF destroyed the $1 billion Teesta III plant in Sikkim in 2023. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption> </figure>  In Sikkim, there is strong <a href="https://india.mongabay.com/2025/02/political-stir-follows-expert-panels-approval-to-rebuild-teesta-dam-in-sikkim/">local opposition to rebuild Teesta III</a> but investors are looking at the huge economic windfall from the river as it drops from 5,000m below Kangchenjunga to 300m within 80km — one of the highest Gravitational Potential Energy of any river in the world. Besides Nepal and Bhutan, the ‘watersheds’ of the Himalaya are turning into ‘powersheds’ as India and China compete for hydro-hegemony. India is said to be planning to dam the Brahmaputra to offset the disruption caused by China’s Medog Dam upstream (see map, below).&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025022203024_37c60bd2a45a32cd23928c900615b6c7045b2e0265050c4761c3749361181999.png" data-media-id="editor_20" data-image-id="2025022203024_37c60bd2a45a32cd23928c900615b6c7045b2e0265050c4761c3749361181999" data-rendition-name="original" width="1918" height="668" loading="lazy" alt="Himalayan rivers map"> </figure>  The thread running through all three books is the need to recognise the ecosystem services that the inhabitants of High Asia provide by protecting our rivers. Not all rivers need to be monetised, conserving rivers and the cultures they retain protects a nation’s natural wealth into the future as the humans of High Asia try to survive climate breakdown. The highlands will be under even more pressure in the coming decades as people in the plains migrate en masse to higher latitudes or higher altitudes to escape deadly heat and ocean expansion.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025022203028_524a74bf65111db3826bfd246576329c45cd4bd0a48b15024b6a520582bbf05a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_21" data-image-id="2025022203028_524a74bf65111db3826bfd246576329c45cd4bd0a48b15024b6a520582bbf05a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="River of Asian Highlands cover"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025022203028_20c17a9b92b11c8bb33df5f2fc2781498464288533c310ccd61e1245e709d99c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_22" data-image-id="2025022203028_20c17a9b92b11c8bb33df5f2fc2781498464288533c310ccd61e1245e709d99c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Unruly waters cover"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250222030212_649cc2ba02e806da2b128fccaf5de2e5c830e10646ba0b43d56da39f65a70f9f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_23" data-image-id="20250222030212_649cc2ba02e806da2b128fccaf5de2e5c830e10646ba0b43d56da39f65a70f9f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Chaalbato cover"> </figure>

Saving what is left of Himalayan rivers

Frustrated with revolving door <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-geopolitics-of-nepal-s-politics">politics</a> with the same <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/tried-tested-and-failed">tired, tested and failed </a>leaders, Nepal’s cybersphere is harking back to the good old days when we had strongmen rulers like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/jung-bahadur-s-destitute-descendants">Jang Bahadur Rana </a>or <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/king-mahendra-didn-t-pay-hunting-bill-in-us">King Mahendra</a>. The<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/inside-story-of-nepal-s-rana-dynasty"> century-long Rana oligarchy</a> ended 74 years ago this week, and the Shah kings airbrushed <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-insect-that-changed-nepal-s-history">Nepal’s history</a> to downplay their achievements and glorify their own dynasty. After <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/if-birendra-was-alive-nepal-could-still-be-a-monarchy">the monarchy</a> was abolished in 2008, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-role-of-rituals-in-royalty">the Shah kings</a> were similarly vilified. But Nepali society is mature enough to realise that the truth is not all black and white. Jang Bahadur may have usurped power in a ruthless coup, but he was a geopolitical strategist way ahead of his time. Whatever you may say about King Mahendra’s efforts in quashing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/is-democracy-too-expensive-for-nepal">democracy</a> and pushing a unitary state, he defended <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-editorial/nepal-should-recognise-palestinian-sovereignty">Nepal’s sovereignty</a> and projected its international image right through the sensitive Cold War period. Jang Bahadur in England is a new Nepali language book by journalist Gajendra Budhathoki about the visit in 1850 by Nepal’s prime minister to England and France, the first by a South Asian potentate. He met Queen Victoria and by all accounts was able to establish Nepal’s presence on the world stage. Historians have long mulled why a devout Hindu like Jang Bahadur would want to break the taboo and cross the Black Waters. Budhathoki recounts the incident upon his arrival at Southampton on 2 May 1850, when British customs officials tried to check the belongings of the Nepali entourage. Furious, Jang Bahadur threatened to sail right back to France if they opened any of the bags. Jang had three main reasons for his trip. Essentially he was on a spy mission to assess <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-forgotten-gurkha-rebellion-e8z403ab">British military</a> might to decide if it was worthwhile for Nepal to try to militarily take back territory ceded to British India in the Sugauli Treaty of 1816. So, Jang asked his perplexed hosts to show him cannon factories, artillery and naval yards. He even visited Woolwich Arsenal (now the Royal Arsenal) not once, but three times.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/looking-back-at-the-1923-nepal-britain-treaty">Looking back at the 1923 Nepal-Britain Treaty</a>, Santa Gaha Magar Suitably impressed, Jang decided to be Britain’s BFF, and even rode down to Lucknow with 3,200 Nepali troops to rescue the British from the Sepoy Mutiny of 1857. As a reward, the British gave back the Tarai districts of Banke, Bardia, Kailali, and Kanchanpur (Naya Muluk). This close relationship continued with Jang’s descendants right till the time the British left India in 1947. Jang Bahadur was also fed up with the Governor General Lord Dalhousie in Calcutta who tended to bully Nepal, and wanted to build direct contacts with his bosses in London. The British told him Dalhousie was their man in India, and Jang should deal with him. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-way-we-were">Jang’s visit to France</a> does not get as much attention in the book, but he was also trying to gauge France’s strength and to see if its military was more powerful than Britain’s. At that time, France was Britain’s main rival and was trying to make inroads in India. At the Louvre, Jang Bahadur was drawn to exhibits reflecting French military prowess. Later, when he met Louis Napoleon III, he asked if he could see a parade of 900,000 troops to assess France’s military might.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/nepal-france-ties-in-photos">Nepal-France ties in photos</a>, Reeti KC Freshly returned from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-long-way-to-europe">Europe</a>, an emboldened Jang Bahadur Rana led Nepal in a war against Tibet in 1855 which ended with the Treaty of Thapathali a year later. This was the third time Nepal and Tibet had fought, the first time being soon after <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/guest-editorial/Prithvi-Narayan-Shah-a-visionary-leader,1102">Prithvi Narayan Shah</a> in 1788.&nbsp; The Qing Dynasty came to the rescue of Tibet, and while both sides claimed victory, the Sino-Nepalese War ended essentially as a stalemate with the Treaty of Betrawati.&nbsp; All of this is detailed in Axel Michaels’ book, Nepal: A History from the Earliest Times to the Present which is a recent English translation of his German Kultur und Geschichte Nepals published in 2018.&nbsp; Michaels is a Professor of Classical Indology and Religious Studies at Heidelberg University, and writes that Nepal mattered little to China. Proof of this is that while both Nepal and Tibet agreed to accept the suzerainty of the Qing emperor following the war, Nepal managed to retain its autonomy but Beijing asserted its control over <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/himalaya-to-lhasa">Lhasa</a>. And despite a clause in the treaty which stated, ‘if a foreign power attacks Nepal, China shall support Nepal’, China never did so during the1814–16 war with the East India Company.&nbsp; This practice has continued to this day. Aside from token petroleum shipments, Beijing did not help out Nepal during the Indian Blockade of 2015. Even though Nepali leaders have tried to play India off against China, the two do not find Nepal important enough to fight over and prefer to leave it as a buffer state between them.&nbsp; In that sense, Britain also did not press home its victory after 1816 and left Nepal alone. The malarial jungles to the south, rugged Himalayan terrain and the lack of marketable products (except soldiers) may have persuaded the traders at the East Indian Company that it was not worth the effort. There is a lesson from history here for Nepal: the country must look out for itself, and this requires deft diplomacy to understand what our giant neighbours really want and leverage it for our gain. This may require strategies like the ones made by Jang Bahadur and King Mahendra after all. Michaels is not a fan of either the Rana or the Shah dynasties. He says that although the Rana era is characterised as ‘a century of tyranny’, the description holds true for the Shah period as well.&nbsp; Michaels does not mince his words about Gurkha recruitment into the British and Indian Armies (another legacy of the Sugauli Treaty). He calls the mercenaries ‘cheap labour’ and Pushpa Kamal Dahal ‘represents a continuation of the King-Brahmin alliance’. In fact, he goes at length to discuss how the Khas-Arya used ‘Hindu state’ to homogenise a country that couldn’t have been more diverse. But democracy has not served Nepal well either. Corruption, impunity and lack of transparency are rife. And so, Michaels asks if Nepal is a failed state. No it is not, but it is a fragile state. He leaves us with these parting words: ‘If Nepal succeeds in continuing down this road, preserving its ethnic and cultural diversity, leaving the ethnic populations with a certain degree of autonomy, while at the same time integrating them into political decision-making processes, and if it manages the reforms needed for land-ownership, labour, education, infrastructure, then the country can become a model for unity in diversity, even in the age of leveling globalisation.’&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250222070248_a32db0a1e39c4a3a5158af81bbcf927aeb96524bcbc6b41086a223685642b367.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250222070248_a32db0a1e39c4a3a5158af81bbcf927aeb96524bcbc6b41086a223685642b367" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Jang Bahadur in England "> </figure>  &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250222070252_e2fa5309f10d36f963243c24ea06d7d354d3dfaf24c7ef283d70369fbeabd02e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20250222070252_e2fa5309f10d36f963243c24ea06d7d354d3dfaf24c7ef283d70369fbeabd02e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal Book"> </figure>  &nbsp;

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