10 April Shaping the future?

The people of Nepal want the Constituent Assembly elections to happen, but the politicians’ tardy homework may yet derail the polls – and with them, the peace process.

By : Prashant Jha

Sam Kang Li

Listening to the people: SPA leaders at Khula Manch, 14 January

The date is 14 January. The location: a mass meeting of the ruling Seven Party Alliance (SPA) in Kathmandu. The reason: Nepal’s top political leaders are gathered to commit themselves to holding elections on 10 April 2008, after having twice postponed the polls already. There is an appearance of sincerity in the speeches. Nepali Congress leader Sher Bahadur Deuba says pointedly, “this time, elections will happen, will happen, will happen.” General-Secretary of the Communist Party of Nepal (Unified Marxist-Leninist) Madhav Kumar Nepal admits that it was the internal feuds within the SPA that had led to the earlier cancellations. Maoist supremo Pushpa Kamal Dahal (aka ‘Prachanda’) mixes belligerence with moderation to ward off the widely held belief that the former rebels were responsible for walking out of the poll process the last time around because they knew they were going to lose. “We brought the agenda of the Constituent Assembly to the national stage,” the rebel leader intones, “how dare anyone doubt our commitment to elections?” For good measure, he adds, “we will destroy those who dare to oppose, and hold the elections over their ashes.”

But the event is striking also for all that is happening below the dais and throughout the venue’s vicinity, the capital’s Khula Manch. The cynicism in the crowd overwhelms the platitudes from the leaders. A party volunteer, escorting journalists, remarks, “this is all a nautanki, a drama. These netas will not go back to the people.” After missing the previous election deadlines, in June and November, few in Nepal have been able to keep up the energy and optimism this time. Ask a taxi driver, a street vendor, a business professional or an international diplomat whether elections will happen, and the answers swing between ‘maybe’ and ‘no way’ – though everyone indisputably wants to see the polls take place.

In their speeches at the rally, the leaders refer sporadically to the unrest in the eastern Tarai plains, which could well pose the single largest challenge to holding elections. But the politicians fail in sending a message of sensitivity to the Madhesi populace, who want identity rights and representation. Among the speakers, the Madhes plains-folk are represented by a fairly insignificant leader, who became a minister under a questionable process, named Shyam Sundar Gupta. When he asks for permission to speak in Hindi, Kathmandu’s Nepali-speaking pahadiya (hillfolk) crowd heckles him down. The image of not being allowed to speak in a Tarai language is beamed live on television and radio broadcasts, confirming to the Madhesis yet again that Kathmandu’s establishment is still unwilling to recognise them as equal citizens with their own cultural rights.

The mass meeting, meant to be a symbol of the joint agenda of the seven parties, begins to look like a mid-hill pahadiya rally meant to harangue the rest of the country, before evolving into a site for inter-party tussle. The event is organised by the Nepali Congress, but the Maoist activists have joined in larger numbers, occupied the front rows and taken control of the public mood. As Deuba begins to speak, the crowd begins to hoot. The slogans are targeted against the Congress and the appointment of Sujata Koirala – Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala’s daughter and lately the vocal advocate of a constitutional monarchy – to the cabinet. Chairs are thrown, and people cross the barricade and begin to surge ahead. Deuba cuts his speech short, and the political leaders hurry out of the venue. The Congress is unhappy with the Maoists for not having kept their cadre under control, reflecting the severe trust deficit always brewing just beneath the surface of the alliance.

As the leaders are leaving, there is a bomb explosion near the venue, which injures a handful of bus passengers. The aim seems to be to send a warning against taking part in the electoral process. The finger of suspicion is pointed at royalist forces who do not want polls to take place, certain that the Constituent Assembly will confirm the demise of monarchy. But even as the culprit’s identity remains uncertain, what is clear is that the path to April elections will be interspersed with rising insecurity.

Public disenchantment with the two postponements, inter-party competition (that involves within it the violently inclined Maoist cadre), insensitivity and distrust toward those who feel excluded (especially the Madhesis), and the violent warning against polls – all of these variables came together at the 14 January rally, succinctly illustrating the enormous challenges that have to be overcome in the next three months. Whether elections will indeed be held
boils down to the intentions, commitment and political will of the main actors. Failure to hold polls and move towards an elected Constituent Assembly this time will almost certainly lead to the collapse of the peace process between the state and the Maoists, and plunge a country just emerging from a decade of violence back into instability and conflict. And unlike when only the Maoists were battling the state, Nepal is today a cauldron of angst and anger of multiple ethnic communities.
 
The Madhes challenge
As things stand, meaningful polls are not possible in ten districts of the eastern Tarai, the region also referred to as Madhes. An angry and radicalised population, a weak and insensitive state, a disorganised armed movement, a divided Madhesi leadership, inter-communal tension and multilayered and ever-developing conflicts have made Tarai politics uncertain and volatile.

None of the Madhesi groups, mainstream or armed, are committed to the ‘roadmap’ that has been outlined by the seven parties. Mahant Thakur’s newly announced Tarai Madhes Loktantrik Party (TMLP), Upendra Yadav’s Madhesi Janaadhikar Forum (MJF), and Rajendra Mahato’s Sadbhavana Party have announced a movement to fight for Madhesi rights before going in for elections. The three have also formed a joint front. The armed groups, already known for killing innocents without compunction, have also sounded out warnings that they will unleash violence if the government goes ahead with polls. The civilian administration (mostly manned by hill officials) is absent, the people are nervous, politicians are not going to the villages, and law and order is worse than at any time since the People’s Movement of April 2006.

Madhesis do want the polls to happen, for they see it as a way to get their rights and also achieve security after a year of strife, ever since the spontaneous Madhes movement changed the national equation forever and brought the plainspeople a modicum of respect in Kathmandu. Madhesis are frustrated with their own leaders for infighting and inconsistency, and with the armed groups for making life miserable in the Tarai. But the deepest anger and suspicion is reserved for the ‘pahadi state’ in Kathmandu. It is common to hear voices of anger across the plains: The government will use instability in Madhes as an excuse to push off the polls. The state only wants to divide and rule. There has been no inclusion in state hiring policies despite all the demands – see, only a few Madhesis were actually recruited into the police. Why is the government not starting dialogue with the armed groups? Why has it not even implemented promises made to Upendra Yadav in the 22-point agreement? Forty-three people died for Madhes, but they have never been appropriately honoured by the state. The Special Task Force is only harassing Madhesis, not providing us security.

In fact, quite a few demands have been fulfilled, even if reluctantly, by the government, but there is inability to publicise what has been done. And the goodwill from promises kept is easily destroyed by the grudging attitude of the ministers, and the failure to give the Madhesi populace and leadership the one thing they need above all else after a history of neglect and degradation – dignity and respect.

The Madhesi moderate forces have started a new movement in the Tarai. Although this includes fiery rhetoric and a long list of preconditions, the minimum demands of the groups revolve merely around a commitment to autonomy, swayatata; and an amendment in the electoral system, where parties would be required to nominate members under the proportional-elections format, according to populace percentage. Madhesi leaders complain that if they put up more than 20 percent of the candidates under the proportional system, they will also need to give representation to other communities on an inclusive basis. (Nepal’s mixed electoral system would have a percentage of the Constituent Assembly members elected through standard first-past-the-post candidatures, and the rest through a proportional system.) As such, the Madhesis are demanding that this allotment be increased to 33 percent – the ratio of Madhesis versus the Nepal population as a whole – without needing to be ‘inclusive’.

Despite the rhetoric, the hardcore demands are few and doable. It is also clear that Madhesi forces are looking for a respectable face-saver, and do not want to derail the entire electoral process. For now, they have only announced a limited movement – locking government offices, a few bandhs – but have warned that if the government does not fulfil their demands by early February, they will have no choice but to step up the agitation.

The room for manoeuvre of the moderate political groups is restricted by the Tarai insurgency. There are currently four major armed groups – the Janatantrik Tarai Mukti Morcha (JTMM) headed by Jwala Singh; a second JTMM faction, headed by Jay Krishna Goit; the Samyukta Janatantrik Mukti Morcha of Prahlad Giri (aka ‘Pawan’); and the Madhesi Mukti Tigers of Praful Yadav. Among these four, Jwala Singh’s group is the strongest, both in terms of numbers and activities. The armed groups have been attacking pahadiyas living in the Tarai, besides carrying out extortions and killings of Madhesis themselves. The extremists want polarisation along ethnic lines, and believe that a tit-for-tat attack on Madhesis will benefit them. Most of these armed leaders operate from across the Indian frontier, from towns in Bihar and Uttar Pradesh. But despite their bravado, the armed outfits are fairly vulnerable. They have a weak organisation and no ideological clarity; Madhesis themselves are losing sympathy for these outfits due to their criminal activities; and the location of their leaders makes them susceptible to Indian pressure.

As of this writing, the situation in Madhes is not irretrievable. Madhesis want polls; the Madhesi groups have reasonable demands; and Madhesi armed outfits can be persuaded not to disrupt polls, particularly if momentum picks up and the moderate Madhesi political actors come on board. Sources have told this writer that Prime Minister Koirala, through his daughter Sujata, has initiated backchannel communications with some of the armed leaders. Some intermediaries are also discussing the contours of a deal with Thakur’s TMLP, which could entail the promise of bulk inclusion of Madhesis in civil services and revision in the election rules.

The state needs to focus on initiating a negotiation process, taking symbolic steps, and giving certain substantive concessions to get Madhesi groups on board. Otherwise, an agitation will pick up and violence may spread like wildfire. The royalists could use the discontent to fuel further unrest in order to derail the polls. And extremism and instability will make it more difficult for all sides to carve out a compromise. But in the Tarai, the government’s inertia in addressing the Madhesi demands has led to suspicions about the very commitment of key national leaders to the electoral and peace process.
 

Robin Sayami

Queen Sujata

The Maoist reversal?
The last poll date, slated for 22 November, was not able to go forward because the Maoists, two months before the scheduled election, realised that they had a severely limited mass base, and would barely be able to win ten percent of the vote ( see Himal Oct-Nov 2007, “And the people be damned”). This vulnerability also exposed the fault-lines within the Maoist leadership. Those ‘radical nationalists’ who had been sceptical of the peace process and the entry of the Maoists into the mainstream mounted an attack on Prachanda and chief ideologue Baburam Bhattarai at the party plenum in August 2007.

According to this line of thinking, the Maoists had given up the gun, had lost out on mass support, and yet had neither been able to win basic concessions for their cadre and compensation for the families of the ‘People’s War’ dead, nor had they been able to attain a single one of their revolutionary objectives. The party had also compromised on nationalism by moving closer to India, in accepting the latter’s interlocution during the peace process. The lesson was that the Maoists would have to revert to a more radical agenda – including the immediate declaration of republic and a fully proportional representation system, which would curry favour with the indigenous groups as well as Madhesis, while at the same time allow the Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist) to do better in the elections.

During subsequent months, it became clear that the Maoists had drawn the wrong lesson – the loss of support had as much to do with their inability to transform into a peaceful democratic force. They were held responsible for thwarting the polls, and their carefully calibrated drive towards legitimacy was under threat. Picking up the proportional-representation slogan did little to help them recover the support of the marginalised communities, who had grown deeply suspicious of the manipulation by former rebels. Meanwhile, international pressure was building up, with New Delhi increasingly warming to the Nepal Army, presently sequestered in the barracks.

As such, with the radicals having nothing to show for their radicalism, the former rebels started looking for ways to get back into the process. After weeks of negotiations, the Maoists agreed to the ‘provisional’ declaration of the country as a republic, with the note that this would be endorsed by the Constitutional Assembly, and a modest increase in the seats allotted for proportional representation. This was more or less the deal that had been agreed to at the outset of the stalemate. On 23 December 2007, a 23-point agreement was signed, which included additional concerns such as the setting-up of a commission on the disappeared, and paying soldiers currently barracked in cantonments – both of which allowed the Maoists to claim the agreement as new victory. But the reality was that the 22 November elections did not happen, dashing all the hopes that had ridden on them.

From his obtuse statement of just a few weeks ago – that any polls in which the Maoists lose would be “meaningless” – ideologue Baburam Bhattarai has come around to a diametrically opposite view. In late January, he warned that, if polls were not successfully held in April, the Maoists may well go back to armed struggle. This change in rhetoric is not due to the fact that the Maoists will win this time around. Rather, it appears to be borne out of the belated realisation that the longer the party stretches this interim period, the more it stands to lose out.

The past few months have also seen the weakening of the Nepali Congress in the Tarai, its erstwhile vote-bank. In such a situation, the Maoists have calculated that, in a fragmented polity after the elections, they will remain a decisive player, especially if overt and covert intimidation were possible during the polls. The Maoists do not want to face the blame for pushed-off polls yet again, and that could be said to be the proof of their true desire to transform into a real political party. At the same time, the Maoist leadership feels that the Congress does not actually want elections in the current situation, due to its weakened state in the Tarai, and would be held responsible in case of another cancellation.

At a recent Central Committee meeting, the Maoists are understood to have decided that the party will prepare for polls with visible seriousness. But in case the polls do not take place, the Maoists will seek to benefit from the ensuing instability and a possible rightward shift in the polity. This will leave open the opposition space for the Maoists, giving the party a more direct enemy in the polarised extreme-right, extreme-left playing field that would emerge. The other, seemingly opposite, strategy adopted by the Maoists is reflected by the rise in the rhetoric of Maoist leaders over the past few months that even the rashtrabaadis (read: nationalist royalists) have a role in national construction. Added to this, a series of meetings between the topmost Maoists and King Gyanendra’s supporters indicate that the Maoists may even be willing to consider some kind of cohabitation with the royalist camp – even while the public is hectored with radical republican rhetoric.
 

Nepali Congress churning
The key question this time around is about the calculations and intentions of the Congress. At the moment, most of the anger in the Tarai is being directed at the party, with even its own district functionaries joining in the chorus to attack the party leadership and the government’s track record on Madhesi rights. The party cannot bank on traditional pro-Congress voting patterns either, given the absence of polls in the last nine years, and the fall-out of the continuing Madhes movement.

Meanwhile, the emergence of a strong Congress rightwing, which is sympathetic to the idea of retaining a ceremonial or constitutional monarchy and is virulently anti-Maoist, has also added a new dimension to the party’s internal politics. The inclusion of First Daughter Sujata Koirala (who bears an image of an untried politician and active wheeler-dealer) as ‘minister without portfolio’, has led to speculation that the prime minister is in the process of personally anointing his heir, causing much heartburn among the party leadership.

The disarray in the ranks, the projected loss of the Tarai and the ascendancy of the royalist rightwing in recent weeks are the reasons to suddenly doubt the Nepali Congress’s commitment to the April polls. But there are also those who say that Prime Minister Koirala has staked his legacy on the elections, which is why they are bound to happen. And political analysts say that the legacy of six decades of politics means that the Congress retains a strong base, and that the real competition will be between the Congress and CPN (UML), with the Maoists trailing a very distant third.

Some party leaders argue that the Congress would not lose its base in the Tarai. The party retains the strongest organisation. It is also likely that the Madhesi groups, when it comes to crunch time, will ally with the Congress rather than with the left parties. To top it all off, the party still has the best finances, and can count on the support of the administration in large parts. With a smart selection of candidates and possible division among Madhesi parties, even if there is a dip in seats, party leaders feel they will be able to win a respectable share.

Kathmandu’s grapevine is rife with theories of how an army-backed civilian government is likely, possibly headed by Sujata Koirala or former Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba, with the support of influential international players. This is also being projected as the option if the elections fail to happen, and the country falls victim to sudden anarchy. But a senior Congress leader rubbishes rumours of an understanding with the army. “The Congress will be completely marginalised in the long run if there are no polls or if it chooses to go with the army,” he says. “Girija Babu will have to step down. The right and the left will become powerful. We need the election the most to protect the middle space.” Political scientist Krishna Hachhethu agrees: “The emergence of a powerful army does not help the NC, even if they have a short-term understanding. In the end it is a democratic party, and cannot run from the electorate forever.”
 

Min ratna bajracharya

Prachanda, 14 January: ‘We will destroy those who dare to oppose’ the elections.

Uncertain Naya Nepal
Perhaps the single most compelling reason to expect that polls will take place this time around is because all of the players are locked in, do not have neat alternative plans, and know there are enormous dangers of being seen as responsible for disrupting the process. Besides that, the all-important ‘invisible’ force in Nepali politics, India, still desperately wants the elections to happen. New Delhi was furious with the political parties for the two postponements, despite Kathmandu having made promises to the contrary, and doing so again would undoubtedly mark the collapse of India’s backing.

There have been debates in the Indian establishment, as well as a bit of blame game between the various players, for having misjudged the situation. Many diplomats see the increased distancing of Prime Minister Koirala, the chill in relations with the Maoists, and the increasing Chinese influence on Kathmandu as signs that New Delhi may well be losing control in its quest to engineer stability in Nepal. The Indian defence establishment has also become more important in framing Nepali policy, and it would not be surprising if one arm of the Indian government were actively preparing for an alternative plan if polls do not take place. But the fundamental tenet of Indian policy has not yet changed. New Delhi still wants elections to the Constituent Assembly, aims to keep the Maoists locked into the mainstream, keep channels open with all forces including the army, and increase its influence across the Madhesi political spectrum – while beginning at long last to pressurise the militant groups that operate from Indian territory.

But the imponderables are many. The royalists are not going to keep quiet if they know that elections will lead to the end of the monarchy. The Nepal Army, which has largely played by the rules as laid down by the Comprehensive Peace Agreement of November 2006, has become restive. The Chief of Army Staff, General Rukmangat Katuwal, has decided to take personal advantage of the situation by making political, anti-Maoist statements and holding out dire warnings of attacks on national sovereignty. However, as much as Gen Katuwal would like to claim otherwise, the fact that the army is still seen to be a royalist force severely constricts its ability to engage in adventurism. The memories of Gyanendra’s army-backed coup of February 2005 and the great upsurge that was the People’s Movement of April 2006 are still too strong.

There remain strong elements in each party that do not want elections, and would be happy with continuing conflict. There are some MPs who would be happier with converting the present interim legislature into a Constituent Assembly, rather than facing the polls. The unacceptability of such a non-representative evolution did not keep a few parliamentarians from recently contemplating such a notion, until reprimanded by a few of their seniors. The ruling elite knows that a Constituent Assembly has the potential to restructure the state and shift power away from Kathmandu, and they naturally would want to cling to the present arrangement if there were no great demand for a Constituent Assembly. Madhes, meanwhile, remains a wild card, with the ever-present potential to spiral out of control.

Uncertainty is the fundamental characteristic of Nepal’s current political landscape. No one, including the top leaders, knows whether polls will actually happen this time – or what will take place if they are cancelled yet again. But, other than in the eastern Tarai, the politicians are nevertheless on the go, organising rallies and meeting constituents. They are impelled to do so by the overwhelming sentiment of Nepali citizens, who want to, for the first time in
their history, line up and vote for a Constituent Assembly on 10 April. And they know that if they do not get that chance, their country will fall back into a spiral of violence, conflict and social and economic backwardness. Then, the dream of a ‘new Nepal’ will be reduced to ashes, and the energy and mandate of the People’s Movement will have been wasted.