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 Some months after beginning my research, I heard there was a collection of historical documents held by Goswara Tahvil.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

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Bureaucratic hurdles in researching Nepal's bureaucracy

<figure><img width="1536" height="2048" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111144/63721ca19c7e80680e0bd49fjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Thirty years after the iconic photograph of her during the first People’s Movement of 1990, Durga Thapa returned to the abandoned and dusty Khula Manch this week to mark the occasion. Photos: MIN BAJRACHARYA</figcaption></figure><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/one-moment-30-years-ago-today/">Min Bajracharya</a> was just 18 then. He was close to Nepali Congress democracy warrior Ganesh Man Singh, and was photographing the People’s Movement of 1990 at the Khula Manch in Kathmandu, when he took what is now the famous photograph of the protest with his Nikon F-2 and a 105mm lens.A young woman leaps above the mainly-male demonstrators sitting and waiting to hear the pro-democracy leaders at the open theatre. Her hands and fingers make V-signs above her head. Her face is defiant, fervent. Her cry of “Long live democracy” is audible over the noise, as the men look on.Durga Thapa was a student, and was a fiery defender of democracy. But she did not know that Bajracharya had just taken a photograph that would make her famous. That came much later. <figure><img width="1496" height="1146" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111144/63721ca49c7e80680e0bd4a0jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Durga Thapa in 1990 during the People’s Movements.</figcaption></figure><figure><img width="938" height="832" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111144/63721ca89c7e80680e0bd4a1jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Durga Thapa again in 2006 during the People’s Movements.</figcaption></figure>It was the morning of 9 April 1990, the month-long protests had climaxed with King Birendra restoring multi-party democracy. A new constitution a year later turned Nepal from an absolute into a constitutional monarchy.There was a victory rally at the Khula Manch on what has come to be known as ‘Chait 17. Formerly underground leaders like Krishna Prasad Bhattarai, Ganesh Man Singh and Man Mohan Adhikari were on stage. As Bhattarai gave a rousing speech, Bajracharya noticed the young student spring up from the crowd. He turned his camera away from the podium to her and took a couple of photographs. Min Bajracharya stored Durga Thapa’s images in his negative cabinet, and it was only two years later that it made it to the cover of the book, Dawn of Democracy published by the Human Rights Protection Forum. Since then the photo has been used in t-shirts, banners and even coffee mugs – most of it, Bajracharya rues, without permission or payment.As a staff photographer for Himal Khabarpatrika and Nepali Times Min Bajracharya went on to document the war, the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/46">royal massacre of 2001</a> and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/235">King Gyanendra’s coup</a>.In 2006, when the Second People’s Movement against Gyanendra gathered strength in the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=11741#.Xo6ezS8w0Wo">Kathmandu Spring</a>, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=11694#.YlPvYnhBypo">Nepali Times asked Bajracharya if he could track down Durga Thapa</a>.  And there she was: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14212#.YlPva3hBypo">back on the streets</a>, still shouting “Long live democracy” outside Singha Darbar. Sixteen years after he took her picture, he <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=11694#.Xo6cii8w0Wo">took another photograph of Durga Thapa</a>, smeared in vermilion and leading a pro-democracy rally. Thapa was now 38, had a son, and was a <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14212#.Xo6cIS8w0Wo">civil servant</a>.This year, 30 years after the first photo was taken, Bajracharya was once more curious to see where Durga Thapa was. Now 53, she is now the assistant Chief District Officer of Rasuwa. Her life has paralleled the trajectory of democracy in this country.This week, Min Bajracharya brought Durga Thapa to the Khula Manch which has been mired in controversy after Kathmandu Metropolitan City tried to turn it into a parking lot, and although it is abandoned, it is still one of the few open spaces left in Kathmandu. <figure><img width="462" height="490" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111144/63721cab9c7e80680e0bd4a2jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Min Bajracharya. Photo: NABIN BARAL</figcaption></figure>“I entered government service to serve the people as efficiently and honestly as possible, after all that is why had to keep fighting for democracy,” Thapa says.Inspired by Bajracharya’s famous picture of his mother, Durga Thapa’s son, Abhigya Thapa, 27, has also become a successful, award-winning travel photographer.Read more: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/one-moment-30-years-ago-today/">One moment 30 years ago today</a>, Mukesh Pokhrel

Returning to the cradle of democracy

<figure><img width="343" height="480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161152/636d1e9f9c7e80680e0af41ejpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>British envoy to Nepal William O’Connor and Prime Minister Chandra Shamsher after signing the treaty on 21 December 1923.</figcaption></figure>Nearly 100 years ago, the Rana ruler of Nepal signed a treaty with British India that redressed some of the humiliation that the Gorkha Empire suffered after its <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/where-nepals-banner-once-waved/">defeat in war</a> and the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2014/01/05/double-centennial/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Sugauli Treaty of 1816</a>.To celebrate the new treaty on 21 December 1923, Prime Minister Chandra Shamsher Rana decreed two days of national holidays, freed prisoners from jails, and temporarily lifted the ban on gambling.‘The signing of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/the-rana-reign-a-recap-of-history,3751">the 1923 treaty with British</a> India was a national festival with public buildings illuminated and joy on the streets,’ Nepali diplomat Bhim Bahadur Pande writes in his memoir ‘त्यस बखतको नेपाल’. ‘Nepal had finally managed to erase the disgrace suffered 107 years ago with the Sugauli Treaty.’Historian Pramod Shamsher Rana agrees in his own book ‘राणाशासनको वृत्तान्त’ that the 1923 treaty went a long way in ‘healing the wounds of 1816’. Indeed, the Sugauli Treaty forced the Gorkha Empire to cede two-thirds of the territory it had conquered to British India.However, the treaty did not happen overnight. It took much skilful diplomacy and lobbying by Chandra Shamsher, who worked hard to prove to the British that Nepal was worthy of being declared an independent country. Drafts of the treaty went back and forth between Calcutta, London and Kathmandu for two years before being finalised.Part of the reason the British agreed to sign a treaty so favourable to Nepal was because Nepalis paid for it with their own blood. The Ranas sent 200,000 <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/lest-we-forget/">troops to defend the British during World War I</a>. There were 24,000 casualties in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/gallipoli-and-the-gurkhas,2271">Gallipoli</a> and in the trenches of Belgium and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/diary-of-a-nepali-soldier-in-france/">France</a>.Pande writes that Nepal also helped British India in its dealings with Afghanistan at a time when the October Revolution rocked the Russia, and assisted the Younghusband expeditionary force to enter Tibet.Read Also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/from-nalapani-to-kalapani/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">From Kalapani to Nalapani</a>, Alisha Sijapati<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/lest-we-forget/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Lest we forget</a>, David SeddonBesides, there was also symbolism to ingratiate the British to Nepal. The British envoy in Kathmandu, for example got a 20-horse escort and a 31-cannon royal salute when he travelled from Lainchour to Singha Darbar to sign the treaty. By treating the British ambassador as a king, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5358#.YcL4sGhByUk">Chandra Shamsher</a> was buttering him up.‘The 1923 Treaty Peace and Friendship Treaty helped Nepal to be recognised internationally as an independent country and not just another Indian princely state,” explains former ambassador Dinesh Bhattarai. “It opened a new era for Nepal on the world stage.”The Sugauli Treaty had allowed the East India Company to appoint a resident in Kathmandu, and after the 1923 the envoy was re-designated as ‘ambassador’.  Although the 1923 treaty is regarded as the main foreign policy achievement of Chandra Shamsher’s rule, historians say Kathmandu did not capitalise fully on its provisions, and Nepal’s ruler also went on to misuse the treaty to suppress dissent in India.For example, Nepal should have taken a reciprocal move to also establish an embassy in London on the same day that the British mission in Kathmandu became an embassy. Neither did Nepal apply for membership of the League of Nations established in 1918 after the end of the war in which so many Nepalis were killed.The 1923 Treaty had seven articles: the first deals with the establishment of friendly ties and guaranteeing each others’ sovereignty, the second said the Sugauli Treaty would remain in effect, the third required both to inform the other if there were problems with neighbours, the fourth disallowed the use of the territory of one country to be used against another, the fifth allowed Nepal to import weapons for its security, seventh removed customs duty for  Nepal’s imports and exports.A copy of the Treaty is preserved in Singha Darbar and bears the signatures of British Resident William O’Connor and Prime Minister Chandra Shamsher. Read Also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/inside-story-of-nepals-rana-dynasty/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Inside story of Nepal's Rana Dynasty</a>, Kunda Dixit <figure><img width="1329" height="928" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161152/636d1ea19c7e80680e0af41fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Chandra Shamsher used this article to ask the British to suppress Nepali pro-democracy activists in India at the time, and the British did stop publication in 1922 of the Gorkhali newspaper from India that opposed Gurkha recruitment. Nepal’s lobbying for the treaty started three years after the war ended, and Chandra Shamsher hosted British Crown Prince Edward on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/centennial-of-hunting-diplomacy-in-nepal/">a lavish hunting expedition in Chitwan</a> during his India tour in 1921. This ‘hunting diplomacy’ served its purpose.‘During the 1921 hunting expedition in Chitwan, Nepali and British officials reached a new understanding about Nepali independence,’ wrote historian Tom Robertson in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/centennial-of-hunting-diplomacy-in-nepal/">an article in Nepali Times last week</a>. ‘They formalised things two years later in the Treaty of Friendship. Nepal would get weapons and a formal acknowledgment of its independence.’ <figure><img width="2000" height="1373" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161152/636d1ea59c7e80680e0af420jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Despite its importance for Nepal, the 1923 treaty does not get as much attention in Nepal, in Britain or India. Researcher Tika Dhakal thinks this is because it is squeezed between two other treaties, the 1816 Sugauli treaty and the 1950 Treaty of Friendship between Nepal’s last Rana rulers and newly independent India.Indeed, there has been criticism about the 1923 treaty, even from the very day it was signed. They came from those who opposed the Rana oligarchy in Nepal, or those against Gurkha recruitment by the British, and later from officials who maintained that the 1950 treaty superseded 1923.However, former ambassador Bhekh Bahadur Thapa says: “Of course, here are questions about the 1923 Treaty but that does not diminish its importance and relevance for Nepal.”

Looking back at the 1923 Nepal-Britain Treaty

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109151116/636bb6589c7e80680e07bc57jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="422" height="615"/><figcaption>From left-right standing: Lakpa Tsering Sherpa (?), Ganesh Man Singh, Bal Chandra Sharma, Mahendra Narayan Nidhi Sitting: Matrika Prasad Koirala and Bishweswar Prasad Koirala Photo courtesy: CHETANA KAUSHIK SHARMA</figcaption></figure>Recently, with my mother Kalpana Ghimiré and my aunt Chetana Kaushik Sharma, we discussed a photo that has remained in the family collection ever since I can remember.For the child that I was, the picture was a mere image of my towering twenty-something grandfather Bal Chandra Sharma with his political colleagues and friends in Banaras.  Without really understanding why, I insisted that they provide me the photo to have it placed in the public domain.At the time, I was not quite able to put my finger into why I felt the way I did about it, until the point of writing this commentary. This picture is a strong and genuine historical testimony.Looking at it, I realise that like the Russian Matryoshka doll, which when opened reveals a smaller figure inside, which in turn has another figure inside of it, and so on, this image can be to be read and understood on many layers.I am convinced that it bears not only a significant historical importance but also is strong relevance to today’s Nepal political climate, and might even be delivering a message for the future.Amongst these young men, some are more familiar to us than others, but for the most part they have come to become these larger than life iconic personalities who were to leave behind important imprints in the historical, political and academic landscape of our country.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/inside-story-of-nepals-rana-dynasty/">Inside story of Nepal's Rana dynasty</a>, Kunda DixitAt the time this photo was taken, they were Nepali students studying in Banaras and key figures of the Nepali National Congress (Nepali Rastriya Congress). They had participated in the Free India movement and were inspired by the whirlpool of revolutionary ideologies and activities against British colonialism there.Given their patriotic inclination, these young men wished to dedicate their lives to bring about socio-political change in their own country that was then under the yoke of the Rana oligarchy.It is a studio-posed picture, and such photographs were markers of special occasions in those days. From family accounts, I know that this picture was taken in October 1947, not long after my grandfather and many others had  been released  from the Dhankuta Jail following their active participation in the Biratnagar Jute Mill labour strike of  March 1947.The agitation had been put down manu-militari by the Rana state troops, workers were brutally repressed, its leaders arrested and imprisoned. The strike, which initially was a movement against the management for labour rights, turned into a call for the nationwide anti-Rana regime movement.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=153#.X3BOwGgzbIU">Witness to history</a>, Dipak GyawaliYouth and leadership:  This photograph draws attention to youth leadership, which is so glaringly lacking in Nepali politics today, and discouraged by the establishment, including the Nepali Congress. Apart from the occasional lip service to “yuva shakti” (youth power), we are having to put up with personalities in their mid to late 60’s and 70’s at the helm of a nation that is predominantly young.It is sad and ironic that the Nepali Congress today, the very party that these young men established, refuses to re-invent itself and pave the way for a new generation. The youth in this photo were promising, dynamic, purposeful and so are the young, aspiring leaders of  today.But they are held back by a coterie of over-the-hill oldsters who were nurtured and educated with outdated, obsolete social and political values. Whether it is the right or left, or the even so-called progressive ‘Maoist’ communists, our present leaders are utterly out of touch with where Nepalis are headed, and what they want.The young men in the photograph changed the course of Nepal’s history, and ushered in the transition from feudalism to democracy. They were visionaries, ahead of their time, capable of anticipating changes that were sweeping the world during that period of history.Nepal’s current political elite lacks this vision, and is lagging behind in the collective aspiration of the people of Nepal. There is a massive gap in ideology, in communication, and indeed in comprehension between the populace and politicians.The people do not understand the motives of their leaders, nor do the leaders address our concerns and aspirations. The current political watchwords seem to be sloganism, nepotism , ‘kursi ko khel’ (literally, a game of thrones) – in all political parties, including the former Maoists in the NCP.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5630#.X3BOgGgzbIU">Four stars and the tree</a>, Shri Bhadra SharmaEthnic representationThe other layer in this photograph is its representation of Nepal’s various ethnicities -- effectively representing the Himal, Pahad, Tarai. This is something we do not see much of these days, at least within a single political party. Has politics in Nepal become so retrograde when we are supposed to have a progressive and inclusive Constitution?When did we last see a Sherpa in the leading committee of NC or the NCP? Many will see that there is a non-representation of women in the photograph, but for that one has to bear in mind that this was the 1940’s after all. The fact that the minorities are so well represented is in itself remarkable.The identity of the man standing on the top left corner has been a subject of debate. On the back of the photograph, a writer has identified him as Lakpa Tsering Sherpa and some have argued it to be Nirmal Lama, both were members of the Nepali Congress in the early days.Pose and pahiran (attire)It is obvious how the vestimentary call of the day was defiance and differentiation. These sartorial elements are more than just fashion statements. How one dressed in that generation reflected one’s political, ideological, cultural or social leanings.When this photo was shown to friends, one of the recurring questions that kept coming up was: why none of these young Nepali men were attired in Dhaka-topi  daura-surwal?The daura-surwal as we know it today is a variation of the Tapalan, something that the Newa people had been wearing for years. The Rana regime declared it to be the national attire, and ordered all Nepali men to wear it for formal occasions.For these revolutionaries, the daura-surwal represented the oppressive  governance of the Ranas, who were often seen wearing them. These young men wanted to steer clear of this image, and depict a ‘newer’ Nepal.Only after the iconic image of King Tribhuvan waving as he deplaned a Dakota with registration ‘VT-CVC’ at Gauchar airfield in 1951 in a simplified daura-surwal, would the attire get its badge of democratic honour.<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/erika-and-king-tribhuvan/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Erika and King Tribhuvan</a>, Alisha SijapatiSedition and disjuncturesThe core of the layered Matryoshka doll in this photograph prompts us to dig even deeper into the bane of  Nepali politics since.We should not just revere these great men, but also critically analyse their shortfalls. Their expressions show resolve and determination, but also exhaustion from having survived the brutal sentence they served for the Biratnagar Jute Mill Strike. In their eyes, we see unity, fellowship and resolve.However, looking back, we also know that this unity was about to crack. Discord, alienation, treason, alliances and misalliances were in the offing. In 1951, the Mukti Sena which had been established as the NC’s Liberation Army against the Rana regime came into disaccord with BP with regards to the tripartite Delhi Accord.Further tension between BP and his half brother Matrika created more fissures. It is tragic that they failed to work as a team for a common goal, and it is partly because of this that King Mahendra had the ammunition to be able to carry out his 1960 coup.Infighting and division seem to be the malediction of Nepali political leadership. This is an invaluable point that the history of Nepal has taught us over and over: our leaders continue to fight among themselves like jackals over a piece of carcass.Seventy years after this photograph was taken, this is still a burning question, and the curse that defiles, degrades and debilitates our political landscape and actors. We still seem to be stuck in square one.

Nepal’s past, present and future in a photo

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

Turkish Basketball

In the black and white photograph, General Wangdu smiles broadly in front of the dusty cactus garden in Kathmandu’s Annapurna Hotel. With an ill-fitting jacket and shaggy hair he looks benign enough, but this was the last leader of the Tibetan freedom fighters who led the resistance against the Chinese from their remote mountain hideouts in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/comings-and-goings-in-mustang">Mustang</a>. Five months later, Wangdu was dead. Snapped in March 1974, I had only recently arrived in Nepal. How did I meet this legendary fighter? Possibly with his devoted camp follower, Lynne Klapecki, and probably in the Om Restaurant near Freak Street which was the preferred <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/hippie-trail-nostalgia-in-kathmandu">hippie hang-out</a>. Om Lobsang and his brother Yeshe were <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/earthquake-brings-back-memories-of-camps-for-tibetan-refugees">refugees from East Tibet </a>whose cafe offered a friendly welcome and<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/momo-loco"> the best momos</a> - they became my in-laws after I married their eldest brother Tenzin, but that was a decade later.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_4573b34282b0f5395c007243d6bef12c7ba76bfd520419e994cdcea048d795a1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025052403054_4573b34282b0f5395c007243d6bef12c7ba76bfd520419e994cdcea048d795a1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1583" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>Photo: LISA CHOEGYAL</figcaption> </figure>  Wangdu’s English was enthusiastically rudimentary, but even riding around town with him on the back of an aging <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-new-motorbike-museum">motorbike</a>, he was a commanding presence. Always flanked by armed outriders, impressive scars marked his forearms and a pistol hung from the cord around his neck. A charismatic guerrilla leader, Wangdu was celebrated by his followers for his tough commitment and respected for his measured pragmatism. He seemed so young to have shouldered such a responsibility of command, leading hundreds of hardened <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/50-years-after-the%20raid-into-Tibet,1012#google_vignette">Khampa combatants </a>through what had been a particularly <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/heavy-snowfall-over-nepal-himalaya">brutal winter in Mustang</a>, the last bastion to hold out against the Chinese invasion of their Tibetan homeland.&nbsp; The freedom fighters of Tibet, known as the Chushi-Gangdruk, had emerged to resist the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/territorialism">Chinese takeover</a> of Tibet during the 1950s. Estimated to be 80,000-strong at the time of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-or-who-after-the-dalai-lama">the Dalai Lama</a>’s final escape to India in 1959, the sheer number of Chinese deployed into Tibet eventually forced the Chushi-Gangdruk to retreat to Mustang, From this high Himalayan stronghold, they continued cross-border raids on the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA) throughout the 1960s.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_8a4a935ba25ae79dc3a63bb5c14626927020e5ec098093c45ccb9a5982e009fd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2025052403054_8a4a935ba25ae79dc3a63bb5c14626927020e5ec098093c45ccb9a5982e009fd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1114" height="676" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>Guerrillas known as the Chushi-Gangdruk emerged to resist the Chinese annexation of Tibet during the 1950s. Photo courtesy: MIKEL DUNHAM</figcaption> </figure>  Their Kathmandu base was a small discreet lodge in a back lane near Rani Pokhari. Sipping sweet tea from a blue mug with a chipped lid, I sat bemused in a corner of the Mustang Hotel room whilst Wangdu and his cohorts received a battered brown suitcase from their CIA connection, a tousle-haired American in a leather jacket. Heaved onto the dingy bedspread that covered the thin mattress, it was clicked open to reveal piles of neatly stacked dollar bills.&nbsp; I cannot think why Wangdu allowed me to witness this handover but I was clearly no threat, a newly arrived world traveller with no understanding of the stakes nor any Nepali or <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/tibetan-music-in-nepals-sacred-valley">Tibetan language</a>. Despite armed guards in the corridor,Wangdu radiated confidence and bravado, and there was a practiced familiarity to the tense transaction. This deadly dance for many years had been funded by the Americans, tolerated by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-kingdom-within-a-republic">Mustang’s residents</a>, and permitted by King Mahendra and the Nepali authorities who it suited to turn a blind eye.&nbsp; But Mahendra died in 1972, and times were changing. Richard Nixon’s ping-pong diplomacy thawed the cold war and signalled a fresh entente with China. Nepal’s yet-to-be-crowned <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/if-birendra-was-alive-nepal-could-still-be-a-monarchy">King Birendra </a>was under pressure to curb the irritating incursions against the PLA launched from the Nepali territory of Mustang. Keen to appease his northern neighbour, on several occasions the King summoned Wangdu for peace talks but, despite increasingly overwhelming odds, Wangdu refused to surrender.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_a8efd5cfb92cd997bd7cb74296a936fef46e2f7428f9cd642b03f1ac4ea11ecb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="2025052403054_a8efd5cfb92cd997bd7cb74296a936fef46e2f7428f9cd642b03f1ac4ea11ecb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1055" height="885" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>General Wangdu flanked by two Tibetan resistance fighters in Mustang in the 1970s. Photo courtesy: MIKEL DUNHAM</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_75969125a745847a2ef82b6fe8b9106c0b21a116d85b8efdf5d2ee89a347bb31.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="2025052403054_75969125a745847a2ef82b6fe8b9106c0b21a116d85b8efdf5d2ee89a347bb31" data-rendition-name="original" width="1044" height="792" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>King Birendra with General Wangdu (right in dark glasses) taken in 1974 possibly in Mustang after one of their few attempts at negotiation. Photo courtesy: RAJRNDRA KUNWAR</figcaption> </figure>  While I naively rode pillion around Kathmandu in the spring sunshine, Wangdu was in the midst of what turned out to be his final round of negotiations with the Nepal government. Refusing to cease hostilities with the Chinese, Wangdu must have suspected the cost of his decision, making his cheerful smile in the photograph all the more poignant and brave. It was only much later that I appreciated the significance of the moment. Wangdu had been sent to replace the first resistance leader in Mustang, Baba Gen Yeshe, a much derided corrupt character who stole money meant for his troops and exploited fleeing refugees by seizing their treasures. Baba Gen Yeshe never forgave Wangdu,and sought revenge in May 1974 by betraying him and his commanders to the Nepal authorities. Renewed Chinese incursions from the north, active PLA collusion with the Nepali forces under the new King, and treachery from within the Chushi-Gangdrukranks combined to seal their fate.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_e0987a7c90d76431b0d7d5e6115ebfe3dbda7ab939e5941e079c18d722e884c0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="2025052403054_e0987a7c90d76431b0d7d5e6115ebfe3dbda7ab939e5941e079c18d722e884c0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1400" height="769" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>British television journalists George Patterson and Adrian Cowell embedded themselves with Khampa guerrillas and accompanied them from Tsum Valley on a cross border raid on a Chinese Army convoy in 1964. Photo: ESSAYS ON NEPAL / SAM COWAN</figcaption> </figure>  Mikel Dunham, renowned author of Buddha’s Warriors, writes: ‘It is possible that Wangdu was waiting for some cue from the Dalai Lama’s government-in-exile in Dharamsala, India. It is equally possible – during that last, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-human-cost-of-nepal-s-yarsa-gold-rush?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR31-Cqw8oyIwMPzf_35e4Skr0ululJvLf3_vDkzHn-AYG2h8uPw2rqqErg_aem_tGVn5coY1-jA7fze_xqhew">desolate winter </a>– that he made the decision to go out in glory rather than admit defeat. Over the last fifteen years, Wangdu had experienced Tibet’s organized resistance being squeezed and shoved around by every conceivable outside force.&nbsp; First they had been pushed out of their own country by the PLA; then they had been refused sanction while on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/borderlines/nepal-india-trans-boundary-bonds?fbclid=IwAR0PpJ5zUEbwdug3g_U3ar6FUugngRY0S8Tl2v_7wqzrsHmXWcXsKjvL4t4">Indian soil</a>; then they were abandoned by the Americans because, apparently, Nixon wanted to make friends with Wangdu’s mortal enemies, the communists; then they had been betrayed by the vampiric Baba Gen Yeshe – a Tibetan and, even worse, a fellow Khampa; and now, finally Wangdu’s army was being evicted by the Nepalis. One thing was certain: Wangdu was a warrior. To imagine Wangdu simply giving up and settling down in the pacific squalor of a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/elderly-left-in-bhutan-refugee-camp">refugee camp </a>was unthinkable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_8fc1ffef4ae751628b90ae781b66e11e51e4fdde2787207c9042efbee345ce49.jpg" data-media-id="editor_20" data-image-id="2025052403054_8fc1ffef4ae751628b90ae781b66e11e51e4fdde2787207c9042efbee345ce49" data-rendition-name="original" width="500" height="746" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>The much derided Baba Gen Yeshe, the first Tibetan resistance leader in Mustang, who betrayed Wangdu for personal gain. Photo courtesy: MIKEL DUNHAM</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_b1d833cdb00d3ac4416b844d8730475cd88c238caaaf8da69889a584eea229a3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_21" data-image-id="2025052403054_b1d833cdb00d3ac4416b844d8730475cd88c238caaaf8da69889a584eea229a3" data-rendition-name="original" width="500" height="656" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>Aditya SJB Rana of the Royal Nepal Army whose team ambushed Wangdu and his cohorts at the top of Tinker Pass in Darchula, West Nepal. Photo courtesy: GAUTAM SJB RANA</figcaption> </figure>  By August 1974 the game was up. Wangdu and six of his exhausted party were killed on their horses by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=7270">the Royal Nepal Army</a> on the brink of escape. The officer in charge, Aditya SJB Rana, cleverly predicted their route into India after they failed to silence a police radio in Yari. A carefully laid ambush trapped them near the summit of the Tinker Pass in Darchula,at 5,000 meters the highest military operation of its time. Wangdu’s body was helicoptered to Kathmandu, and a big show made of the royal Nepal victory.&nbsp; The Tibetan armed insurgency against China had reached its end.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250524030520_3ff9c6fc85a65bc9a2c3afe9736d9f5f9413de752e790a5d9dca0981ea94f9b4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_23" data-image-id="20250524030520_3ff9c6fc85a65bc9a2c3afe9736d9f5f9413de752e790a5d9dca0981ea94f9b4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> </figure>

The Last Days of the Khampa

Starting 17 September Turkish Airlines will fly daily to Seville, one of Spain’s major tourist draws. This is Turkish’s sixth destination in Spain after Madrid, Barcelona, Valencia, Malaga, and Bilbao. Seville is in the Andalusia region on Spain’s south coast with a rich Moor history. There are approximately 30,000 Nepalis living in Spain.&nbsp;

Turkish to Seville

The newly-formed Himalayan Art Council is set to launch Nepal’s National Art Protection Platform that seeks to preserve <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-history-of-heritage">Nepal’s unique cultural heritage </a>using<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/artificial-censorship"> AI-powered tools</a>. The Council seeks to safeguard <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepali-art-going-places">Nepali art works</a> from neglect, theft and counterfeiting as well as preserve existing artwork and celebrate living masters by giving them a cultural space to continue the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/sacred-survival">sacred art traditions</a>. "We are introducing a new digital platform designed to preserve, verify and elevate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-new-generation-of-alternative-artists">Nepal’s art for generations to come,</a>” says a statement from the Council, adding that the digital platform will use AI told for authentication and blockchain to keep track of works of art. Artists can now be protected by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/ayo-ai?fbclid=IwAR1uwmTVq4gUB70ljfRezjzukD9ArWXPuMnUikopeQ8PoiZMjicToPSwhKE&amp;=1">AI tools</a> that detect forgeries, identify their work even when unsigned, and ensure they receive proper recognition and credit. The archives will be searchable with translated inscription and interactive guides. Says curator Meena Lama: “AI and blockchains are tools that give us the power to detect fakes and identify unsigned paintings and track every piece. With these tools we can restore trust, secure authorship and give artists the dignity they deserve.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250514170544_2ab58f6313c0458f75114a692b0016bd9efb3b59d5f8f07f0da72e1e37b82f53.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250514170544_2ab58f6313c0458f75114a692b0016bd9efb3b59d5f8f07f0da72e1e37b82f53" data-rendition-name="original" width="1300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Artwork at the Traditional Art Exhibition at Patan Museum."> <figcaption>Artwork at the Traditional Art Exhibition at Patan Museum.</figcaption> </figure>  The Council is also holding an exhibition of Nepali cultural masterpieces with 50 historical <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-the-art,671">thangka and paubha </a>by past masters and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/between-the-sacred-and-everyday">contemporary works by current artists</a>. This curated collection is a living tribute to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/when-yaks-go-so-does-culture">Himalayan culture</a> with economic depictions of deities, mandala and sacred narratives. The exhibition at <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/a-portal-into-patan-s-past-and-present">Patan Museum</a> also provides an opportunity to meet painters and custodians of art and culture. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/golden-deities">Golden deities</a>, Sewa Bhattarai ‘The exhibition is only the first step in a long journey to ensure that Nepali art is no just seen but fully understood, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Narratives-of-Faith-and-Memory-Remembering-the-Lost-Sculptures-of-Kathmandu-exhibition,987">protected and remembered</a>,’ the Council says. Artist Kailash K Shrestha of Artudio has spent decades promoting thankha and paubha traditions because of their beauty and devotional meaning. But he also says artists are underpaid, exploited and ignored. He adds, “AI and blockchain are not just buzzwords, they are powerful tools that can protect Nepal’s artists from fraud, verify authenticity and build a permanent record of provenance.” Traditional Art Exhibition Till 17 May Patan Museum

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