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 Some months after beginning my research, I heard there was a collection of historical documents held by Goswara Tahvil.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

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

30 years after Baby Arun

It cannot be a coincidence that after pushing bills to constrict freedom of expression and allow greater <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/security-or-espionage">surveillance of citizens</a>, Nepal’s government is now tightening controls on civil society.
In a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-editorial/command-and-control">series of recent moves</a> journalists have been sued for contempt of court, imprisoned for YouTube videos, or ordered by courts to desist from investigating corrupt officials.
An amendment to the Print and Publications Act that would hand the power to shut online media to the Chief District Officer (CDO). Another draft Bill would allow a political appointee to head a new Media Council with the power to revoke a journalist’s license. The draft counter-intelligence Bill would let random officials to arbitrarily tap phones, read emails and trail citizens.
Now comes yet another draft Bill that would replace the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10675">Social Welfare Council (SWC)</a> with direct government control over registration, regulation, and management of non-governmental organisations, nonprofits and charities. There are more than 54,000 NGOs, 200 international NGOs registered with the SWC.
The draft makes civil society organisations needlessly jump through hoops to carry out work that complements the government in the social sector. Critics say the Bill was drafted without any consultation with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-s-rights-groups-must-step-up-4r4z6ck4">civic groups</a>.
“This Bill’s content is questionable whether it intends to allow for civil society organisations in Nepal a free space to operate,” concludes Dr SP Kalaunee, Country Representative of BlinkNow Foundation and Chair of the Association of International NGOs in Nepal (AIN). “The draft seems oriented towards controling rather than facilitating the work of civil society organisations.”
The Bill will be open for feedback from the public, and integrates the National Directives Act (1961), Association Registration Act (1977), and the Social Welfare Act (1992) and proposes dissolving the SWC and replacing it with a new Social Welfare Department under the Ministry of Women, Children and Senior Citizens.
Non-government groups will now be required to get approval from the Registrar Office, the CDO or the provincial government depending on their area of operation. Those working across provinces will have to get permission from the federal government. &nbsp;
The government says the Bill is intended to vet organisations to see if they are engaged in espionage, violate national security, assist a foreign state, commit treason, cause strife between federal units, or incite communal violence.&nbsp;
CSOs working in Nepal have long called for legislation to better facilitate their work, minimise administrative and bureaucratic red tape which have posed operational challenges. But they are opposed to such drastic control.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-crow-and-the-scarecrow">The crow and the scarecrow</a>, Om Astha Rai
The NGO Federation of Nepal also issued a statement this week calling the Bill ‘retrograde and cumbersome’. It added: ‘Most of its provisions are intended to further constrain and control civil society organisations rather than facilitate and strengthen them, and reduce the role of citizen participation … it is an attack on our civil liberties, inclusivity, and transparency, and curtails our <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5156">democratic values and constitutional rights</a>.’ &nbsp;
<a href="about:blank">Nepal’s graduation</a> from least-developed country status next year may mean less aid for Nepal, and higher interest rates on loans from multilateral creditors. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/how-usaid-cut-affects-nepal">closure of USAID </a>and reduction in bilateral grants means the work of INGOs will be even more vital – especially to meet its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/target-2030-for-maternal-and-newborn-health">SDG targets by 2030</a>.&nbsp;
“We are competing with other countries at a time when the global aid environment is shrinking, so the support we receive is directly dependent on a conducive environment for INGOs to operate and function,” says Kalaunee. “INGOs follow regulations of the nations they operate in, they will not protest or wait around for governments to change their minds or policies.”
Social safety net
Since 1977, the work of non-governmental actors in Nepal has been regulated by the Social Service National Coordination Council (SSNCC) chaired by Queen Aishwarya.
After the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/one-moment-30-years-ago-today">1990 People’s Movement</a>, King Birendra set up the Social Welfare Council (SWC) as an autonomous body in 1992 through the Social Welfare Act. But since then the SWC has been dogged by controversy and allegations of corruption and extortion.
In 2018, the Commission for the Investigation of Abuse of Authority (CIAA) filed a Rs315 million corruption case against 14 individuals, including the Minister of Women, Children and Social Welfare and SWC chair Badri Prasad Neupane and other officials for violating public procurement laws to rent out three hectares of its property around Bhrikuti Mandap.
Civil society groups have for years called for reforms in the SWC, and a report was drawn up to restructure it before this Bill proposed its dissolution. INGOs in particular will now have to go through the Social Welfare Department and multiple ministries for permissions.
A particularly objectionable provision in the draft stipulates that NGOs must have a Board of Director made up almost entirely of secretaries of various ministries. The NGO Federation has urged the government to take a civil society-friendly approach and not tangle its work in red tape and control. It says the government has no option but to revise the bill in its current form.
“Civil society organisations need an open space to operate, and an autonomous body to oversee them,” says Kalaunee. “Non-government organisations support in the areas prioritised by the government but by definition they cannot be a part of government.”

Big, beautiful Bills

An average Nepali could live 3.3 years longer if air pollution is reduced to meet the World Health Organization (WHO) guideline, according the annual <a href="https://aqli.epic.uchicago.edu/">Air Quality Life Index</a> 2025 published this week. The annual average concentration of tiny suspended particles in the air (PM2.5) in Nepal in 2023 was 38.3 μg/m3, nearly eight times the WHO standard, and 10% higher than 2022. Thirty years ago, air pollution in Nepal was half the current levels. WHO says particulate concentration above 5μg/m3 &nbsp;is<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-is-invisible-is-more-dangerous"> hazardous to health</a>.&nbsp; The most <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/why-is-the-air-in-bhaktapur-so-bad">polluted parts of Nepal</a> are along the Indian border in Rutahat, Mahottari, Dhanusha, Parsa and Bara districts in Madhes Povince where average life expectancy is reduced by as much as 5.3 years.&nbsp; People in Sarlahi, Siraha, Saptari, Morang, Sunsari, Rupandehi and Jhapa are also dying at least 4 years earlier. The Air Quality Index 2025 report which is published annually by the Energy Policy Institute at the University of Chicago, says the figure is relatively lower for Kathmandu and Lalitpur at 2.6 and 2.4 years. After the Madhes, Kosi and Lumbini Provinces are the most polluted — especially in towns along industrial corridors and near the border. Karnali Province was by far the cleanest, followed by Sudurpaschim. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/epicentre-of-pollution">Epicentre of pollution</a>, Sonia Awale  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250828060856_136770cc84e114e8993af82e6a682c45d9458060e4ecf45f18e9f210673e1279.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250828060856_136770cc84e114e8993af82e6a682c45d9458060e4ecf45f18e9f210673e1279" data-rendition-name="original" width="753" height="584" loading="lazy" alt="AQLI map"> <figcaption>Potential gain in life expectancy from permanently reducing PM2.5 from 2023 concentration to the WHO guideline.</figcaption> </figure>  Air pollution is now the leading external<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/cleaner-air-longer-lives-0z0okfeu"> threat to life expectancy in Nepal</a>, exceeding both tobacco and diet-related risks, which reduced average lifespans of Nepalis by 1.9 years and 1.3 years respectively. The Air Quality Management Action Plan for Kathmandu Valley introduced in 2017 had identified vehicular emissions, brick kilns, and construction as the most polluting. It adopted measures to strengthen air quality monitoring, develop emissions inventory, and conduct impact assessments. Other major sources of emissions in Nepal include <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/no-smoke-without-fire-p7vb9dcj">forest fires</a>, crop residue and garbage burning as well as transboundary pollution from India and Pakistan. The report says India is the world’s most polluted country with the particulate concentration in 2023 at 41 μg/m3, an average resident in India could live 3.5 years longer if pollution levels were brought down to meet the WHO guideline. Residents of New Delhi on average would live 8.2 years longer if they breathed clean air. South Asia has some of the world’s most polluted cities. On some winter days, Kathmandu records the worst air quality in the world. In 2023, PM2.5 concentrations in South Asia declined by 9.6% between 2021 and 2022 due to lockdowns during the peak of the Covid-19 pandemic. ‘After a dip in 2022, particulate pollution in South Asia increased by 2.8% in 2023 — though it remained 7% lower than in 2021,’ <a href="https://aqli.epic.uchicago.edu/report/annual-update-2025">states the report</a>. ‘In the region’s most polluted countries, particulate pollution’s impact on life expectancy is nearly twice that of childhood, and maternal malnutrition and more than five times that of unsafe water, sanitation and handwashing.’ Elsewhere, unprecedented wildfires caused particulate concentrations to rise to levels not seen since 2011 in the United States and since 1998 in Canada. China also registered a decline in air quality, an increase of 2.8% in particulate pollution in 2023 relative to 2022, the first in a decade since the start of its ‘War on Pollution’ in 2014.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250828060856_94860b929d0fb161220ad72ecb76fcd29ba8e306bd6b844485a4171dadb6bb47.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250828060856_94860b929d0fb161220ad72ecb76fcd29ba8e306bd6b844485a4171dadb6bb47" data-rendition-name="original" width="754" height="501" loading="lazy" alt="AQLI line graph"> <figcaption>Annual average PM2.5 concentration in Nepal from 1998-2023.</figcaption> </figure>  Globally, the PM2.5 concentration in 2023 was 1.5% higher than in 2022, and nearly 5 times the WHO guideline. If global particulate pollution were permanently reduced to meet this guideline, an average person around the world would gain 1.9 years of life, adding 15.1 billion total life years to the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-future-is-older">global population</a>, the report adds. ‘Particulate pollution remained the greatest external threat to human life expectancy in 2023, with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/air-pollution-is-more-dangerous-than-smoking">its impact comparable to smoking</a> and surpassing other major health risks,’ the report says. ‘Its toll on life expectancy is more than 4 times that of alcohol use, 5 times that of transport injuries or unsafe water, sanitation, and handwashing, and more than 6 times that of HIV/AIDS.’ The report also highlights the need for open data, and says that accessible air quality information has translated into reduced particulate concentrations and gains in life expectancy in the United States, China, and Poland. Besides data, the report says, investment in monitoring and other air quality management infrastructure must be matched by political will, ambitious policies, capacity building, and sustained enforcement.

Warning: breathing is hazardous to health

A cosy art space in Thamel comes alive this month with soft light filtering through glass windows and settling gently on ceramic works that radiate both silence and strength. Much like specks of dust shimmering in a sunbeam, fragments of uneven mirrors scattered at the centre of the exhibition catch fleeting reflections of passersby that force visitors to reflect on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-fabric-of-society">life and society</a>. From a distance, the mirrors resemble playful, anime-style sunny side ups in bright shades. It may look random, but on closer inspection the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/hari-the-potter">meticulous craftsmanship</a> reveals itself in every curve, giving more permanent shape and form to the artist’s fingers on the original clay. Alongside are cups, vases, and plates adorned with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/facades-and-flowers-from-nepal-to-italy">delicate sketches</a> of animals, houses, and trees. Some have inscriptions drifting across surfaces like floating letters. The vases rise in varying heights, dressed in muted greens, while some are blended with soft browns and yellows.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025082711084_3ccb0e0e002bee9521867cbca82d56a1dc1e3ed799c5159fc07adc6f674325ab.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025082711084_3ccb0e0e002bee9521867cbca82d56a1dc1e3ed799c5159fc07adc6f674325ab" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="810" loading="lazy" alt="Firing her imagination"> <figcaption>Photo: DALAI-LA ART SPACE</figcaption> </figure>  “Ceramics have taught me patience in unpredictability,” says ceramic artist Aishworya Shakya, 26, whose work is currently on display at Dalai-la gallery in Thamel. Shakya began with simple drawings, but as she delved deeper into her studies of fine arts, she began exploring new concepts and methods of idea formation. She found herself increasingly drawn to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/take-to-pottery-during-the-pandemic">the expressive potential of ceramics</a>. “Clay is flexible and transformative, and the process of turning it into a hardened form is cathartic,” she explains. “For me, it’s about free forms, feelings, and the intangible, which often take shape in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/kiran-manandhar-in-the-abstract">abstract ways </a>through ceramics.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250827100812_4e2efcf1284d6589d5eafb34b276b8d4c69ebba9453efe4af9a70c51b2e31d6f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250827100812_4e2efcf1284d6589d5eafb34b276b8d4c69ebba9453efe4af9a70c51b2e31d6f" data-rendition-name="original" width="739" height="985" loading="lazy" alt="Firing her imagination"> <figcaption>Photo: DALAI-LA ART SPACE</figcaption> </figure>  The writings on her finished ceramics are deeply rooted in her academic explorations of personal history. Shakya contemplated family relationships, and transformed them into patterns and inscriptions on clay — giving her private meditations an extension on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/an-ode-to-the-ordinary">life and lessons</a>. “It is never fixed what I want to make when I begin,” says Shakya. “There might be a frame, but never anything too specific. My forms come through an intuitive process. If I try to meticulously plan everything, it never works out, so I just let it flow.” What begins as an imagined idea often transforms through the process, shaped by the unpredictability of clay and fire, keeping her grounded and open-minded. Shakya’s works usually undergo three rounds in the furnace: beginning with bisque firing, followed by layers of engobe underglaze mixed with pigments, which she applies in three coats before the second firing. Finally, she adds the glaze before the final firing. The most demanding part is actually in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=13617">preparing and mixing the clay</a>, removing bubbles, and refining it so the final product has at least some predictability, she says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025082711080_d4856f6f195e9b2ad06144832121da0068aaf0f94800c483b278a204fbf3865e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2025082711080_d4856f6f195e9b2ad06144832121da0068aaf0f94800c483b278a204fbf3865e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Firing her imagination"> </figure>  The title Burned and Being comes from the ceramic-making process itself. “But more than just the process, it is an embodiment of my existence. As a person learning to take up space, I am filling my surroundings with things that inspire and align with me to create a sense of being and take a stand for myself,” Shakya explains. The artist is now looking ahead to expand her art beyond vases and mirrors to explore more sculptural forms. Burned and Being Till 30 September 11am to 7pm Dalai-la Art Space, Thamel

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