Only the most adventurous attempt to walk The Great Himalayan Trail (GHT), even fewer dare to run all of its 1,800km from one end of Nepal to another. And it is not just the horizontal distance – the trail is a vertical roller coaster from 1,500m to 5,600m. This week, 44 international and Nepali runners are joining The Great Himalayan Race that roughly follows the GHT in a 51-stage hyper-marathon that will take nearly two months.&nbsp; The Great Himalayan Race was first staged in 2017, and pushes the mind and body to absolute limits in a one of the hardest endurance tests in the world of sports.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240404120424_94dc99ebf4b70195fb6ac7bb062573d1716951321a49b9c223f6d9dad6e2a143.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240404120424_94dc99ebf4b70195fb6ac7bb062573d1716951321a49b9c223f6d9dad6e2a143" data-rendition-name="original" width="5028" height="3360" loading="lazy" alt="Hurtling through the Himalaya"> <figcaption>Runners carry heavy backpacks in which they food, sleeping bags, medical equipment, and jackets</figcaption> </figure>  What makes this race special is that every step of the way, they will have sunset and sunrise views that transform the snow peaks into purple and gold. The runners will be passing sacred, isolated Himalayan valleys rich in heritage.&nbsp; The particpants arrived in Kathmandu this week, and will fly out to Nepalganj and Simikot and then on to Hilsa on the Nepal’s northwestern tip bordering China to start the race on 9 April. On Thursday morning, race director Bruno Poirier, a tall, grizzly man, was briefing the runners in his French accented English.&nbsp; “Be prepared to change plans if the unexpected happens,” Poirier tells them. “It is an individual sport, but we also need to look out for each other.”&nbsp; The split between Nepalis and foreigners is about half and half, and most are middle-aged. &nbsp;Lean and fit with striated, veiny calves, these are obviously serious runners. They sport a wide variety of headwear: hats, visors, bandanas, snoods. Visitors are in shorts, but most Nepalis are in jeans with colourful running shoes. Many don wrap-around sunglasses.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240404120440_fe54e48b226ed874d280ba37cfdf292543ecba60c32a90c3d102bd23c55a52e3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240404120440_fe54e48b226ed874d280ba37cfdf292543ecba60c32a90c3d102bd23c55a52e3" data-rendition-name="original" width="909" height="542" loading="lazy" alt="Hurtling through the Himalaya"> <figcaption>Runners will follow the route, in red, west to east </figcaption> </figure>  There is no easing into this race. The first stage is 41km, virtually a marathon. From Hilsa at 3,650m, runners will climb to Nara Lagna at 4,580m, and drop back down to Taplung at 2,880m. The race will get as high as 5,694m at Ghami La in Mustang during Stage 15, on Day 22. Runners will get to Muktinath on Day 27, and Manang on Day 30, exactly halfway into the race. On Day 41, they will be at the Last Resort on the banks of the Bhote Kosi northeast of Kathmandu. On Day 60, Stage 51, they will finally reach Kanchenjunga Base Camp at 5,143m on 31 May if everything goes to plan.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240404120428_552ed7dba5b37ca1ff9a835c63e8c4d70fd8d5741727c1025963a4c3a14ba49a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240404120428_552ed7dba5b37ca1ff9a835c63e8c4d70fd8d5741727c1025963a4c3a14ba49a" data-rendition-name="original" width="6016" height="4016" loading="lazy" alt="Hurtling through the Himalaya"> <figcaption>Runner in the 2017 Great Himalayan Race below Mt Jannu </figcaption> </figure>  Nervous excitement is palpable among the runners. The race will take them through 27 high passes in the Himalaya, most of them above 5,000m elevation. Weather up there can change dramatically and suddenly, and participants will have to improvise, take new routes and even find places to take shelter. Vincent Minier from France completed the race in 2017, and tells us: “It’s like parachuting. The first jump is always the scariest.”&nbsp; French organisers of the race have a slightly laissez-faire approach to safety, attests Jagan Timilsana, winner of the 2017 race. Which means they will get along with the happy-go-lucky Nepalis. &nbsp; Greek couple Lazaros Rigos and Asimina Inglezou say the reason they signed up was because of the history and the mystique of the Himalaya. Also in the cohort are accomplished Nepali long distance runners Upendra Sunuwar, Bhim Bahadur Gurung, and Sher Tharu. While Sunuwar and Gurung also took part in 2017, it is Tharu’s first attempt in the competition.&nbsp; “It’s a hard race but when you finish it, it is the best feeling in the world,” says Sunuwar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240404120440_c43beb3814090c8a5a2cedad1fecc0ac2c621fd00415bc2f18272db73e50a014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240404120440_c43beb3814090c8a5a2cedad1fecc0ac2c621fd00415bc2f18272db73e50a014" data-rendition-name="original" width="4896" height="3672" loading="lazy" alt="Hurtling through the Himalaya"> <figcaption>Runners encounter numerous obstacles on their way</figcaption> </figure>  Swiss runner Jules-Henri Gabioud is in Nepal for the seventh time, and ran the race in 2017. He runs in the Alps and says the biggest difference is that the Himalaya is higher and rougher, the huts along the way do not have heating, and the food is basic. “I like dal-bhat but it can get a little monotonous,” he says.&nbsp; Lazaros Rigos from Greece agrees: “There are some ingredients missing: protein, vitamins and minerals. You have to supplement these, so your stamina holds up.” &nbsp; Rest and recovery after a gruelling stage consists of food, a wash, perhaps a couple beers, and good sleep. The runners also have to carry backpacks with sleeping bags, heavy jackets, meal packs, and first aid kits weighing upto 20kg throughout the race.&nbsp; Jagan Timilsina is from Sarangkot and won the 2017 race a whole 45-hours faster than anyone else. He now runs several businesses, including Himalayan Trail Running, and spends his summers teaching outdoor leadership in Alaska.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240404120448_00af08356dac7a6658eb66dca4d253409ab295a14d829cefa84f91b4ba782e9e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240404120448_00af08356dac7a6658eb66dca4d253409ab295a14d829cefa84f91b4ba782e9e" data-rendition-name="original" width="6016" height="3418" loading="lazy" alt="Hurtling through the Himalaya"> <figcaption>A runner in the trans-Himalayan Humla region of Nepal where the race starts on 9 April</figcaption> </figure>  He tells us, “The physical part of the race in 2017 was manageable, but as a Nepali for me it was an opportunity to see the culture and the beauty of the untouched and remote Himalayan valleys.” In 1983, British cousins Richard and Adrian Crane ran across the Himalaya from east of Kanchenjunga to west of Nanga Parbat, taking 100 days. Forty years since, Nepal is capitalising on the growing interest in ultra-running and adventure sports worldwide. Timilsina is familiar with the challenges of organising a trail race, and says Nepal’s bureaucracy is the biggest hurdle for adventure sports like the Himalayan race.&nbsp; He adds: “Visitors need multiple permits from multiple committees. Policies regarding running tourism are outdated, and arduous to change.” &nbsp;

Vishad Raj Onta

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Hurtling through the Himalaya

Race against time

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141144/636baec19c7e80680e078013jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1598" height="1066"/><figcaption>Photo: Bignewskhabar</figcaption></figure>On 23 May, Angira Pasi, a 12-year-old Dalit girl, was found hanging after being forcibly married to a 25-year-old ‘upper-caste’ man who had raped her. On 24 May, Nabaraj BK, and his five friends were <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/they-killed-our-son-and-now-they-are-killing-justice/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/they-killed-our-son-and-now-they-are-killing-justice/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1595740698198000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGV8LnJ9KL669O-ysSlJa5RS8RLWw">beaten to death</a> and thrown into a river because Nabaraj dared to marry an ‘upper-caste’ Thakuri girl. On 25 May, a white policeman in Minneapolis in the United States kneeled on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/we-all-yearn-to-breathe-free/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/we-all-yearn-to-breathe-free/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1595740698198000&amp;usg=AFQjCNG9CqanylI4D8SxH_uxFnbi9IE-7Q">George Floyd's</a> neck for 8 minutes 46 seconds, and killed him.Three crimes in three consecutive days. One of them set off a worldwide movement that is fundamentally changing race dynamics not just in the US but around the world. The two other crimes in Nepal were the latest in a long list of casteist atrocities across the subcontinent perpetrated against a traditionally excluded community.Millions continue to protest police brutality and deeply rooted systemic biases that unfairly and disproportionality affect black Americans. These protests have gathered up to 26 million participants, one of the highest turnout in any protest in US history. It has also generated more media coverage than any other protest in the last 50 years.However, in an unsurprising turn of events, the crimes against Dalit people, just as heinous, just as frequent, have received disproportionately less attention, and have not led to any real reform.The Rupandehi police refused to file Angira's case until it got national attention. They then detained her rapist Birendra, his mother, and aunt, but remain convinced Angira died by suicide.Rukum police have detained 34 suspects in Nabaraj BK's case. The Home Ministry's five-member probe team from Kathmandu investigating it has deemed it pre-meditated caste-based violence. Serious repercussions are yet to follow.A <a href="https://tbinternet.ohchr.org/Treaties/CEDAW/Shared%20Documents/NPL/INT_CEDAW_CSS_NPL_32516_E.pdf" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://tbinternet.ohchr.org/Treaties/CEDAW/Shared%2520Documents/NPL/INT_CEDAW_CSS_NPL_32516_E.pdf&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1595740698199000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHsgicz5UlUdsg6lK2azGeGlDwDMg">comprehensive report</a> by the Feminist Dalit Organisation (FEDO) and the International Dalit Solidarity Network (IDSN) shows the extent to which Dalits are marginalised in Nepali society.A staggering 42% of Dalits live below the poverty line, in comparison to the national average of 25%. The Dalit literacy rate of 52.4% falls short of the national literacy rate of 65.97%, with Dalits comprising only 1.6% of Nepalis with SLC and above, and 0.8% of Nepalis with a Bachelor’s degree.The picture is worse for Dalit women, who are discriminated against because of their caste and gender. Dalit women and girls comprise 21% of trafficking victims of Nepal. Dalit girls make up 62% of Nepali <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3798#.XwyQcJMzY6A" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D3798%23.XwyQcJMzY6A&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1595740698199000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHzsQA69rbsgXvvQE9icVEDpGVoVg">child marriages</a> under 15-years of age."While there are similarities between caste issues in Nepal and race in the US, it is important to recognise that there are distinct differences in terms of its origins and how it manifests in everyday life,” says Dalit rights activist Sarita Pariyar. “It is good to see some Nepali are taking interest in race questions, however, they need to ask themselves about their own role in the caste questions as well."Pariyar underlines the need to rethink relative privileges of other Nepalis and role in the persistence of caste-based injustices and inequities in Nepal. “This is important for reclaiming our humanity as well as just futures for all," she adds.Pradip Pariyar, social activist and chairperson of the SAMATA Foundation, adds: "Nepalis in the US are speaking up for black lives but are silent about Dalit lives because we have never had conversations about caste in our family, in our society."Although Dalits bear the brunt of casteism, ethnic discrimination also affects other marginalised communities in Nepal. Asked about this, all educated upper- and middle-class Nepalis interviewed for this article preferred to remain anonymous."My grandmother only wants a Bahun or Chhetri maid,” said one ‘upper-caste’ person in Kathmandu. Even though she is old and struggling with severe back pain, she would rather do all the work in her big house than hire a maid of another caste."Another adds, "My grandparents refused to put Dasain tike on my father's office staff because he is Teli Madhesi." A Sherpa student complained to her school about Losar not being a holiday, but was ignored.Pradip Pariyar argues that to tackle casteism, there must be representation. "Issues that affect Dalits are not even in the radar of non-Dalits,” he says. “I have talked to people who can stand up and bring change. Because they aren't Dalit, they aren't as concerned about these issues as they should be. This will continue if there is no representation."However, the picture is grim. Dalits, despite making up 13% of Nepal's population, have merely 8% representation in the Nepal’s Parliament and comprise a meagre 0.8% of Nepal's civil service. As long as Dalits are underrepresented, activists say, they will remain silenced and powerless, and continue to be discriminated against, oppressed, murdered, lynched, raped, and forgotten.Sarita Pariyar adds, "It is important to re-examine the idea and role of resources from within and outside of Nepal for inclusive development. In this, we need to have a genuine role of Dalits for ensuring effective distribution and use of resources."

Black lives matter but Dalit lives don't?

This year, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/quo-vadis-un-80-9vthn7mg">United Nations is marking its 80th anniversary</a> and it is being celebrated with special events across the world to commemorate its establishment on 24 October 1945. It has also been 75 years since the first UN adviser, the Swiss geologist Toni Hagen, was sent to Nepal to explore development opportunities. In 1950, there were no roads and Hagen walked on foot across the length and breadth of Nepal’s mountains, valleys and plains. This year also marks the 60th anniversary of the United Nations Development Program (UNDP) in Nepal, and much of Hagen’s work laid the basis for the UN’s involvement in education, health, and connectivity in Nepal’s future development. Despite frequent changes in government and political system, Nepal has made remarkable progress. The poverty rate has gone down by half in the past 30 years to 20.27% of the population. Much of it has to do with remittances from Nepalis working overseas, but it is also a result of the Nepal government’s investment in education, health care and social welfare.&nbsp; There have been special initiatives like the Prime Minister’s Employment Program that have provided jobs to nearly 800,000 people in the country’s 743 municipalities — especially in those areas with lower Human Development Index (HDI) like the far-west and the Tarai.&nbsp; This year’s HDI report by UNDP shows that Nepal’s score had risen to 0.622, whereas it was only 0.404 in 1990. In the past 33 years, the average lifespan of Nepalis has risen by 15.6 years to 70.4 years, whereas it was only 54.8 in 1990. However, the country’s HDI ranking is still 145 among the world’s 193 countries. “Yes, there has been significant improvement in living standards in the past 60 years, road connectivity has improved, the maternal mortality rate has gone down dramatically, almost everyone has phones, there are schools,” says Saru Joshi of the thinktank Nepal Policy Institute. But, she adds: “It is still difficult to get citizenship papers, especially in the name of the mother, and this has excluded many women from banking services, inheritance. After all our progress in physical infrastructure, Nepal now needs to prioritise inclusive social development.”&nbsp; Some of this is also happening. Eighteen years ago, Nabaraj Subedi, 49, of a village in Baglung decided not to join his peers &nbsp;fleeing the Maoist conflict to find work overseas. He invested Rs500,000 to buy a diesel generator and start a small furniture business.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251024071044_eeef308e19a73de507a425b2c6afc47269884549cf4c8fac07ca9a4898c8e031.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251024071044_eeef308e19a73de507a425b2c6afc47269884549cf4c8fac07ca9a4898c8e031" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nawaraj Subedi"> <figcaption>Nawaraj Subedi, 49, proprietor of Tarakhola Furniture Factory. </figcaption> </figure>  Today, with the installation of the 380 kilowatt small hydroelectric plant, he does not need to depend on his unreliable generator to power his equipment anymore. There is now a road connecting his village, and Subedi has generated local jobs, opened a sales branch in the city, and gets orders from as far away as Pokhara and Chitwan. “My costs have gone down drastically because of the electricity, and sales have gone up because of the road connecting my furniture to markets. My business has expanded,” Subedi says. Back in 1960 in a report he prepared for the Nepal government on behalf of the United Nations, Toni Hagen had emphasised just this: investing in electricity generation and connectivity to uplift the remote rural areas of Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251024081024_188ab121dc3cf2816ee71a72cb3687493eda37ab99ecc04802d647c8c9b4cd2d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251024081024_188ab121dc3cf2816ee71a72cb3687493eda37ab99ecc04802d647c8c9b4cd2d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Tarakhola Furniture Factory"> <figcaption>Subedi's staff at the Tarakhola Furniture Factory.</figcaption> </figure>  Subedi’s furniture factory gets its electricity from the nearby Tarakhola Hydropower, a company set up eight years ago with financial and technical support from UNDP’s Renewable Energy for Rural Livelihood (RERL) project. &nbsp; “The project completely transformed living standards in this village,” says municipality chair Dhan Bahadur BK. “It has helped create jobs locally, there is now money to invest in education and healthcare. Households can pay their electricity fees electronically through smart billing.”&nbsp; After working with the government on rural electrification, UNDP is focussed on using that power for local employment creation. A women’s group, for example, has bought an electric-powered potato processing machine that can produce chips.&nbsp; “We are 12 of us mothers, daughters, daughters-in-law who process, package and market the potato that we grow ourselves, and it has raised our income,” says Sukmaya Roka, 57, who chairs the group.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251024071044_70b22418699178bcdd0abb0aa308796980ecd29634bcda6ff113a7624e709751.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251024071044_70b22418699178bcdd0abb0aa308796980ecd29634bcda6ff113a7624e709751" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Sukamaya Roka"> <figcaption>Sukamaya Roka, 57, chair of Sipa Aalu Chips Utpadan Samuha from Tarakhola Rural Municipality, Baglung. </figcaption> </figure>  Today, 6.1 million households in Nepal (92.2% of total) have electricity in their homes, up from 17.9% 30 years ago. Access to electricity has not just brought lights to homes, but improved everything from productivity, quality of education, healthcare and phone connectivity.&nbsp; “To see what electricity and roads can do, just look at our municipality,” says chair Dhan Bahadur BK, “citizens have become more self-reliant, more aware of the outside world.”&nbsp; NETTLES INTO CASH&nbsp; Just a little bit of training, resource backup and local empowerment can uplift the living standards of Nepalis. The progress made in harvesting abundantly-available allo (nettles) and turning it into household products is an example. When a landslide swept away his home and farm in a flood 40 years ago, Buddhi Purja of Parbat became destitute. But he took part in a government training program supported by UNDP and Australia to harvest the wild nettles that grew on mountain slopes and turn the fabric into bags.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251024071048_56c440c478dffbc13911369b6f4133baf658cc3667773cdb44b7c40e006463ce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251024071048_56c440c478dffbc13911369b6f4133baf658cc3667773cdb44b7c40e006463ce" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Rhitu Saugat Handicraft"> <figcaption>A worker at Rhitu Saugat Handicraft making a bag out of nettles.</figcaption> </figure>  “After the landslide, we had to go hungry if we did not get a day job,” Purja recalls, “but after this training we have found that we can turn nettles into cash.” His allo bags are now hanging in tourist shops in Pokhara Lakeside and Thamel.&nbsp; The idea that nettles can be processed into useful fabric has not spread across the country, and new ecologically conscious consumers in Europe and elsewhere now import Made in Nepal nettle products.&nbsp; Purja started out with an investment of Rs500,000, and had a Rs20 million business that employed 25 workers. The Covid crisis in 2020 affected the sales, but Purja has recovered from it, sent his daughter off to study abroad, and is thinking of diversifying his product range.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251024071044_ab6d15abcbb9a643e12a384f4bc488b7e210a8c95303fbe1b2f77716d26eede9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251024071044_ab6d15abcbb9a643e12a384f4bc488b7e210a8c95303fbe1b2f77716d26eede9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Buddi Purja"> <figcaption>Buddi Purja, proprietor of Rhitu Saugat Handicraft in Pokhara.</figcaption> </figure>  While UNDP’s project has made successful businessmen out of people like Purja, nationwide it has created 187,000 jobs in rural medium-scale industries. Much of what has worked in Nepal has been at the community level with decentralised projects like these that use the entrepreneurship of people like Buddhi Purja, Navaraj Subedi, and Sukmaya Roka. It is tantalising to imagine how much more progress Nepal would have made if their work could be replicated nationside and upscaled to the state-level.

Think locally, invest locally

Imagine a high-end fair trade tea brand from Nepal that has done everything right, with ethical sourcing practices and international certifications. It has built a loyal base of socially conscious, premium customers in an export market and focuses on quality over quantity. Then one day, a government in the export market introduces a new ‘listing criteria’ that requires exporting a certain amount of tea to at least three countries in the past five years. But this was never a numbers game, it was about a niche market of socially responsible tea lovers. Suddenly, fair trade tea companies are restricted from exporting tea to that country. Pretty unfair for the company, for consumers, for the tea sector. More importantly, for tea farmers and families benefiting from fair standards. The overseas labour industry is facing a similar risk as recruiters, including those that have adopted ethical standards, may soon be barred from finding workers for Malaysia. On 27 October, the Malaysian Ministry of Foreign Affairs sent letters to five countries including Nepal, Bangladesh, Burma, Pakistan and India to ‘rationalise the number of licensed private recruitment agencies permitted to facilitate recruitment and placement of workers to Malaysia’.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251030141040_050274dddc6cf10224b0ad9283eec7b3bc3c0acd650543a808a8ea473ecf40db.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251030141040_050274dddc6cf10224b0ad9283eec7b3bc3c0acd650543a808a8ea473ecf40db" data-rendition-name="original" width="961" height="1135" loading="lazy" alt="Malaysia recruitment"></figure>  The letter includes 10 criteria for private recruiting agencies including at least five years of operating experience, deployment of 3,000 workers in the past three years of operation, experience sending workers to at least three countries, a 10,000 sq m office maintained for three years, valid licenses and good conduct certificates, five employer testimonials, and operating their own training and accommodation centres. Two conditions stand out as potentially harmful to Nepal’s ethical recruitment movement. First, although the letter cites a minimum of 3,000 workers, it says three years in the heading and five in the body text. A big enough difference to affect a significant number of recruiters from making the cut, but problematic regardless. Second, the requirement to send workers to at least three countries disproportionately impacts responsible recruiters in Nepal and elsewhere. Turning the selection of workers into a numbers game is dehumanising. Responsible recruiters deprioritise volume, focus on quality of jobs even when business sustainability comes under threat as ethical opportunities that do not require workers to pay any feed and ensure greater transparency are difficult to come by. Sending workers is further impacted by a series of external shocks. For example, in the Malaysian context Nepal banned emigration to Malaysia for two years followed by the Covid pandemic, and then Malaysia’s decision to stop the intake of foreign workers for the last two years.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251030141040_b1b88b3ae2e94c6bc077529ac6f2a4e380a385ee9a22219edfed25067c9d25a1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251030141040_b1b88b3ae2e94c6bc077529ac6f2a4e380a385ee9a22219edfed25067c9d25a1" data-rendition-name="original" width="595" height="841" loading="lazy" alt="Malaysia recruitment"></figure>   <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251030141040_2cf252908d18aaf09c875002eef2d92ab45897a56b560addd2dc02311725c8a7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251030141040_2cf252908d18aaf09c875002eef2d92ab45897a56b560addd2dc02311725c8a7" data-rendition-name="original" width="590" height="238" loading="lazy" alt="Malaysia recruitment"></figure>  Many ethical recruiters have focused on Malaysia because it is a more common labour market for responsible recruitment than other destinations like the Gulf. There is no credible justification to why responsible recruiters well regarded by scores of Malaysia-based multinational companies and with decades of experience should be ‘disqualified’ for not diversifying. Finding jobs for Nepalis in new markets is difficult given fierce competition, challenges identifying companies which follow the employer-pays principle, lack of networks and shortcomings in marketing strategies. These factors hit responsible recruiters harder because profit-motivated employers are often unwilling to cover the costs and fees associated with workers’ recruitment. “The volume of deployment does not determine a recruiter’s capability or the quality of services provided,” says Sujit Shrestha of the Nepal Association of Foreign Employment Agencies (NAFEA). Nepal recently scrapped the licensing renewal requirement that mandated sending at least 100 workers a year as it was impractical. The new Malaysian criteria is similar in nature, he added. The ball is now in Nepal’s court at a time when the interim government does not even have designated heads in the Foreign Ministry and the Ministry of Labour, Employment Employment and Social Security. When rumours about the Malaysian action started circulating, NAFEA had raised the issue, but was assured that this was not an attempt to set up a syndicate.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251030141044_83c8a174ef116603f747d1cd254c4d353e8b855a41fb99feec54e701f5fc4c3f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251030141044_83c8a174ef116603f747d1cd254c4d353e8b855a41fb99feec54e701f5fc4c3f" data-rendition-name="original" width="3456" height="5184" loading="lazy" alt="Malaysia recruitment"></figure>  How will governments and recruiters in other origin countries now respond? There is precedence from Bangladesh. Dhaka-based journalist at the Daily Star, Porimol Palma who says, “Earlier, the Malaysian authorities had selected 101 Bangladeshi recruiters unilaterally, despite Bangladesh’s call for a syndicate-free recruitment mechanism.” Between 2022-2024, 450,000 Bangladeshis were recruited under this system with workers paying between $4,500 and $6,000, even though the legal limit was $750. Palma attributes part of the high fees workers had to pay were for commissions or bribes to recruitment syndicates. Adrian Pereira heads the North South Initiative in Malaysia says: “The criteria seems a bit fishy, as they do not appear to address the actual problems in the the recruitment of foreign workers. Some of the criteria seem to encourage a system of monopoly or syndicate rather than a rights-based approach. Every government has the right to set criteria for recruiters, but conventions and ILO (International Labour Organization) standards on recruitment exist. It looks like we’re back to square one.” Whether migrant origin countries including Bangladesh and Nepal accept the terms sent without reservations or push back in good faith remains to be seen. In an ideal world, a collective stance should put workers’ needs and welfare at the centre. How rational is the proposed ‘rationalising strategy’? What aspects of it are promising to curb recruitment abuse and what merits serious reconsideration? Even if the move from the Malaysian side is well-intentioned to address rampant malpractices migrant workers face, Nepal should deliberate on the conditions set, the collateral damage especially on the responsible actors and small but capable recruiters. Alternate options that might serve everyone better before rushing to respond with a chosen list by 15 November. If the proposal is accepted, how would it be done in a transparent and accountable way? It is noteworthy that Indonesia was not listed even though it has the most workers in Malaysia among the 16 countries that send migrants to Malaysia. The Responsible Business Alliance (RBA), the ILO, the International Organization for Migration (IOM), and certification programs like On the Level (OTL) also need to use their leverage to ensure that recruiters, including those they have trained or certified on ethical recruitment principles, are not penalised. This is more than just about protecting the ethical recruitment movement, but raising even more basic questions: Who can legally be a recruiter in Nepal? There are already obligations like hefty security deposit and minimum office requirements. But requirements to have building facilities with ‘accommodations’ or ‘testing centres’ are not among them. There are 1,150 plus players in Nepal’s recruitment sector, with a few hundred engaged in the Malaysian market. A unilateral selection criteria could risk foul play, or lead to unintended, unfavourable consequences. To be sure, overseas recruitment in Nepal is known for ‘settings’, corruption, dog-eat-dog competition, and collusion. The profiteering is out of control, often at the expense of workers. But the solution does not lie in stifling the industry with criteria like deployment volume, building worker accommodations or expanding office floors. The focus should instead be on enforcing rules and laws in both countries that govern the industry, and the Malaysian labour agreement that has not been renewed since October 2023. Meddling in the industry in ways that harms fair competition and ethical actors means workers suffer. The only issue that should be taking precedence is: how will Malaysia’s 10-point criteria and planned arrangement affect migrant workers? We have seen how for identical Malaysia-based jobs, one worker might pay zero while another pays up to Rs400,000, depending on the employer and recruiter. It is unclear if the 10-point selection criteria rewards the employer. As a longstanding host country for Nepali migrants, Malaysia deserves credit for nurturing the small but growing ethical recruitment industry here. Export-oriented companies in Malaysia need responsible recruitment partners and have mentored recruiters to strengthen their practices and move away from worker-paid models. The business case for ethical recruitment standards has led many recruiters in Nepal to pivot with many now in various stages of transition from traditional to hybrid or purely ethical practices. This progress needs to be acknowledged and built upon. Large, well-networked recruiters with large physical assets and high volume of workers seem to be the winners of Malaysia’s 10-point criteria after two years of waiting for the Malaysian market to reopen. Responsible recruiters endure long periods of minimal or no deployments that threatens their survival. The letter now sitting on the desk of the interim government in Nepal deepens the concern: rather than just failing to recognise or reward responsible recruiters, does the international recruitment market actually punish them? Upasana Khadka heads Migration Lab, a social enterprise aimed at making migration outcomes better for workers and their families. Labour Mobility is a regular column in Nepali Times.

Who gets to recruit for Malaysia?

Public anxiety about immigration has become a powerful political currency across many liberal democracies. In Australia, as elsewhere, legitimate concerns about housing and economic fairness can be, and increasingly are exploited by anti-democratic actors who frame migration not as a policy issue but as a cultural threat.&nbsp;
When these narratives move from online spaces to public rallies, they do more than divide opinion; they erode the social trust and pluralism on which democracy depends. Understanding how populist and far-right movements weaponise migration debates is crucial to recognising the early challenging signs of liberal democracy.
Immigration has become one of the most politically charged issues in Australia, not only because of the numbers but because of its entanglement with cost-of-living pressures, housing shortages, and rent spikes.&nbsp;
The latest Household, Income and Labour Dynamics in Australia (HILDA) <a href="https://www.unimelb.edu.au/newsroom/news/2025/september/how-we-live-latest-hilda-data-gives-insight-into-a-changing-australia">data</a> shows rising household financial stress as Australian households spending more on rent and income tax. These changes likely reflect a mix of economic and policy factors but create a lot of room for people to hold inaccurate and occasionally contradictory attitudes on these issues.&nbsp;
While net overseas migration has started to decline from its post-pandemic peak, public concern remains high, amplified by populist rhetoric. Some surveys have <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2025/feb/04/australians-want-less-migration-but-oppose-cutting-international-student-numbers-study-finds">revealed</a> a nuanced picture: most Australians want lower migration overall but oppose cutting international student numbers, and support targeted skilled migration to address workforce gaps.&nbsp;
As former Home Affairs Minister Clare O’Neil <a href="https://minister.homeaffairs.gov.au/ClareONeil/Pages/how-australia-broke-its-migration-system.aspx">argued</a> in 2023, Australia’s migration system is “broken and un-strategic”, not delivering for business, for migrants, or for the larger population. This is a situation that frustrates both sides of the debate and makes immigration an easy political flashpoint.
The recent <a href="https://marchforaustralia.org/">March for Australia</a> rallies turned these anxieties into street-level mobilisation. Tens of thousands <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/czjmre371l1o">protested</a> at what they called ‘mass immigration’, while far-right groups seized the opportunity to inject xenophobic slogans and calls for ‘remigration’ into the public space. These demonstrations were not only about visa caps or housing and jobs; they became performances of who is entitled to belong.&nbsp;
When immigration is framed not as a policy question but as a cultural test of Australianness, it risks shrinking the demos, the very community that democracy is meant to represent.
What made the March for Australia so striking was not only its size but its composition. Recent investigative reporting <a href="https://www.theage.com.au/politics/victoria/don-t-mention-hitler-and-you-re-sweet-the-great-march-for-australia-deception-20250909-p5mtlc.html">revealed</a> that neo-Nazi groups were not merely present at the March for Australia rallies but played a role in covertly organising them. They amplified messaging online, coordinated attendance, and sought to mask their involvement to broaden appeal.&nbsp;
This highlights that democratic erosion is rarely spontaneous; it requires actors who deliberately exploit social grievances, mistrust, and polarisation to mobilise anger for their anti-democratic ends. The banners reading ‘<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2025/sep/01/how-do-i-feel-safe-after-march-for-australia-anti-immigration-protest-ntwnfb">Stop Immigration</a>’ revealed that public hostility towards migrants, <a href="https://www.afr.com/politics/federal/pressure-mounts-for-price-to-apologise-to-indian-australians-20250908-p5mt7x">particularly</a> from the Indo-Pacific, is growing.
For many migrants, these displays are more than conceptual debates about white national identity. They are experienced emotionally. Writing shortly after the rallies, Melbourne-based writer Jafrin Kabir <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2025/sep/01/how-do-i-feel-safe-after-march-for-australia-anti-immigration-protest-ntwnfb">reflected</a> that she had never felt so foreign on Australian soil. She pays taxes and inflated rents, contributes skills in the national interest, cheers for the Tillies and calls Melbourne “home”, yet suddenly felt unsafe because of the origin and colour of her skin.&nbsp;
Similarly, Chinese national interviewed by media outlet <a href="https://www.scmp.com/news/china/diplomacy/article/3325127/i-feel-insecure-chinese-nationals-australia-blindsided-anti-immigration-marches">reported</a> cancelling weekend plans and feeling “blindsided” by the scale of the marches.
Scapegoating migrants especially in times of economic stress is an age-old phenomenon and is not just limited to Australia. Across the democratic world, from the United States to the UK and parts of Europe, hostility toward migrants and minorities has become a route for anti-democratic forces. Populist actors often <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2025/mar/27/peter-dutton-keeps-blaming-migration-for-the-housing-crisis-but-can-it-really-be-that-simple">use</a> cultural anxiety and demographic change to justify illiberal and undemocratic measures, claiming to restore order while actually dismantling checks and balances.
By analysing democratic decay, scholars like Lydia Khalil at the Lowy Institute, <a href="https://interactives.lowyinstitute.org/features/democratic-erosion/">argue</a> that democracies rarely break down at once. Instead, they incrementally weaken through vicious cycles: declining trust in institutions, entrenched division based on hate, the normalisation of political violence, and the bit by bit removal of norms and guardrails.&nbsp;
Though some of the conditions are present in Australia to be exploited by anti-democratic actors, for example, almost two-thirds of Australians believe their leaders intentionally mislead them, according to the <a href="https://www.edelman.com/au/trust/2025/trust-barometer">2025 Edelman Trust Barometer</a>, &nbsp;but their presence is not determinative.
Australia’s democratic guardrails remain strong: independent courts, transparent elections run by the AEC, and a free press continue to hold power to account. Federalism and active civil society further diffuse power and create space for contestation.&nbsp;
But if public trust continues to erode and social divisions deepen, these safeguards will come under strain. Early recognition and action are crucial to ensure that today’s street-level hostilities do not translate into institutional regression.
Preventing such outcome requires a socially embedded understanding of migration, an understanding that goes beyond simplistic optimistic and pessimistic views. Policy makers should go beyond Push-Pull models, functionalist and neoclassical and historical-structural theories.&nbsp;
Consulting the work done by <a href="https://www.guilford.com/books/The-Age-of-Migration/Haas-Castles-Miller/9781462542895#:~:text=International%20Population%20Movements%20in%20the%20Modern%20World,-Hein%20de%20Haas">Hein de Haas</a> et-el, migration should be conceptualised as an intrinsic part of broader processes of development, social transformation and globalisation rather than a 'problem to be solved'. We need more nuanced views that have an eye for the complexity of migration processes and the diversity of its causes and impacts.
Sohail Akhtar is a Melbourne- based researcher focusing on governance, public policy, and migration. He contributes to Lowy Institute Sydney.
This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and is being republished from <a href="https://toda.org/global-outlook/2025/is-street-level-hostility-a-challenge-to-liberal-democracy-reflections-from-australia.html">the original</a> with their permission.

Is street-level hostility a challenge to liberal democracy?

Intricately painted Buddha, Aryatara, Krishna, and Parvati gaze serenely at visitors at the Kathmandu Art Gallery under muted amber lights. Moving from one artful devotion to the next, a quiet, profound connection to the divine envelopes the visitor. This transcends art to the realm of the spiritual. &nbsp; The gallery’s latest exhibition, Masters of Devotion, features art by 22 artists all from Bhaktapur. They also include Ajay Karmacharya, Purna Prasad Hyoju, Nhuche Kaji Bajracharya, Rajani Sinkhwal, Shashi Dhar Sainju, Surya Bahadur Chitrakar and Sundar Sinkhwal from the Khowpa Paubha Chowmi Pucha. Paubha are religious and devotional art depicting deities and mandala that date back to the 7th century, when Newa artists began to paint images of the gods on cloth. For the artists who practice this craft, the art form is as meditative as it is meticulous.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251025041028_de34b51d48bcee50ae391301e2ff1890be7ecba3df7e563537c273818825aad5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251025041028_de34b51d48bcee50ae391301e2ff1890be7ecba3df7e563537c273818825aad5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="art review "> </figure>  The exhibition at the newly-opened space Kathmandu Art Gallery coincides with the festival season and is a collection of extravagant works done in mineral and stone colour, sakura and gouache. The vintage art space is located at Babar Mahal Revisited and is a fitting accompaniment to the paubha featured in the exhibit.&nbsp; Sundar Sinkhwal’s vividly painted Harihara is among the more eye-catching works. “Half of the painting is Shiva and half is Vishnu, hence the name Harihar,”explains Sinkhwal. “Together with their consorts Parvati and Laxmi, I have painted Uma-Maheswor and Laxmi-Narayan.” Nandi and Garuda, the vehicles of the two gods, complete the vibrant painting.&nbsp; In contrast, for his piece titled Lakshmi, Sinkhwal shrouds his canvas in dark colours to paint Kuber, the deity revered as the custodian to the wealth in the Hindu pantheon, accompanied by two khyak apparitions —one black, the other white— both mythical creatures in Newari folklore.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251025041032_1bde6de442b742c300bb8c9278ea8886445aa8df47076fd9aa362ce1f8bef903.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251025041032_1bde6de442b742c300bb8c9278ea8886445aa8df47076fd9aa362ce1f8bef903" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="art exhibition"> </figure>  “The black khyak is considered inauspicious, while white ones are a symbol of good luck,” explains Sinkhwal. Purna Prasad Hyoju has used mineral paint on canvas for a powerful depiction of Ardhanareswar, the composite form of Shiva and his consort Parvati.&nbsp; “I drew inspiration from the Newari Swasthani story about the separation of Shiva and Satidevi,” says Hyoju. Legend has it that Shiva, unwilling to part from his consort, reincarnated as a unified dual gender form of himself and Parvati. Hyoju has painted goddess Parvati in bright yellow, in homage to one of her other manifestations, Gauri, which means radiant.&nbsp; Meanwhile, Ratna Gopal Sinkhwal’s Kurkula Devi, done in stone pigment, is radiant on the cotton canvas. “Kurkula Devi is a tantric goddess whose traces are found in the Sadhana Mala,” says Sinkhwal. “The stone pigment is what makes the goddess look like she is gleaming.” One of Sinkhwal’s other works draws from stories in the Mahabharat to depict Bhimsen, Draupadi, Dushasan and Akash Bhairav in confrontation, expressions fierce.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251025041028_72eea52c8504eccb8b3be7cd4cef616dfb8efd821e8b1e1ae8f440f10782be11.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251025041028_72eea52c8504eccb8b3be7cd4cef616dfb8efd821e8b1e1ae8f440f10782be11" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="854" loading="lazy" alt="art exhibition"> </figure>  The opening of the exhibition last week also featured a music session, during which some of the artists sang traditional songs. Their voices joined the rhythm of the madal and melody of the harmonium, adding warmth to the crisp autumn evening.&nbsp; Each painstakingly detailed paubha reflects the artists’ devotion to divinity and mythology, as well as their heritage. Masters of Devotion showcases the work of veritable masters of their craft, and is a must-visit for art connoisseurs and devotees alike. Says the gallery’s Sangeeta Rana Thapa: “It is our honour to celebrate the artists’ work—to stand among pieces that embody both devotion and mastery, and to witness a tradition that continues to inspire us.” Masters of Devotion Kathmandu Art Gallery Baber Mahal Revisited Until 22 November