In conclusion, Jha noted, “While the impact and even sustainability of the Upendra-Laxman pact has yet to be seen, the alliance will force other national, Madhesi and Tharu outfits to reassess their assumptions and calculations.” [break]
Although this alliance could trigger similar political associations in the future, the TSC-MJF-Nepal agreement is actually indicative of an existing trend – found across the ideological spectrum at the national and local level – of opportunistic and short-term alliances, which are being formed at great speed.
For instance, consider ethnic-based political parties embroiled in a campaign to rally support for ethnic-based federalism. Fragmented ethnic political actors have recognised the need to engage and forge partnerships with rival movements if they are to have any influence in Kathmandu.
The Tharuhut Autonomous State Council (TASC) and the TSC on Wednesday 3 March pledged a renewed commitment towards joint protest and awareness programmes, although the two sides have stopped short of full unification.
Intriguingly, it should also be noted that the former chief of Laxman Tharu’s armed wing chief Chaudhary last month defected to Bijay Gachchhadar’ MJF-Democratic with 300 militants.
This move is particularly striking in light of the TSC-MJF-Nepal alliance as it demonstrates that the same, consensus-based tactics have been utilised by opposing factions within both the Tharu and Madhesi movement.
Furthermore, discussions between Sanjuhan Paluwan and Kumar Lingden over reintegrating both factions of Federal Limbuwan State Council (FLSC) are in an advanced process. The basis of this reunification is extremely telling.
On the one hand, Paluwan has realised that by boycotting the Constituent Assembly (CA) elections and abstaining from the national dialogue his position is too weak to have any credible impact.
On the other hand, Lingden has recognised the potency of FLSC-Sanjuhan especially in districts such as Jhapa where Limbuwan Volunteers have made significant grassroots challenges to the Maoists and Youth Communist League.
A united FLSC, in their perspective, will give them more clout locally, regionally and nationally.
Other representatives from historically marginalised communities, such as Dalit or Muslim political activists, have also tried to energise their respective independent, united political movements.
Representatives from both communities have tried to invigorate their respective unified political struggles, which bring together Dalit or Muslim CA members for community-based issues regardless of their party affiliation to campaign.
Having said this, similar efforts to mobilise both the Dalit and Muslim community have historically been hampered by similar fundamental, structural problems.
Unlike the Tharus or Limbuwans, for example, who are well-represented and thus established power base in a particular part of the Terai, both communities are scattered across the region leaving them with no significant power bases anywhere in the country.
Despite the best efforts of non-government organisations (NGOs) such as the Dalit Welfare Organisation or community-based organisations such as the Fatima Foundation in Nepalgunj, illiteracy and poor education has left the population politically naïve and uneducated.
Armed political movements are also adopting a similar strategy. On 1 March, Matrika Yadav announced a working alliance with four small fringe Marxist parties (the Revolutionary Communist Party-Mani Thapa, Rishi Kattel’s Communist Party of Nepal [Unity Center-Masal], Kirant Workers-Angami and the Revolutionary Left Wing-Krishna KC).
This development has been met with deep concern by local security forces, given these parties’ alleged involvement with extortion, murder and kidnapping in central and eastern Terai districts. Yet armed Madhesi groups are also currently in discussion over collaborating or unifying into one movement.
This includes elements of armed groups in talks with the government, such as Madhes Mukti Tigers, as well as underground militant groups like Akhil Terai Mukti Morcha (ATMM) and various Janatantrik Terai Mukti Morcha (JTMM) factions still wanted by the security forces.
The armed political movement has been damaged by the Special Security Plan which has driven the majority of hardcore activists back to India, not only to traditional refuge in border villages across Bihar but to safe-houses in major cities such as New Delhi.
Although the threat and physical presence of the majority of armed political groups has subsided, this has not prevented continuing incidents of extortion and shootings. For example, three government or local state figures have been killed in Banke alone over the last month.
Certainly many of these may claim to be members of groups such as JTMM-Jwala Singh and have no genuine political ambitions. Yet many do have such intentions, illustrating a desire to rebuild their military capacity.
Serious question-marks still remain over the sustainability of loose alliances between disparate armed groups – either Matrika Yadav’s coalition or the proposed Madhesi working association – given their tense history of caste and leadership struggles, ideological, political and ethnic differences, with limited manpower and funding.
Nevertheless, as the constitution deadline approaches the security forces can expect an intensified, coordinated effort to disrupt local security.
A similar trend can be noted on the opposite side of the political spectrum. On 6 February the Rastriya Prajantantra Party and Rastriya Janashakti Party united to become the Rastriya Shakti Prajantantra Party (RSPP).
The party is ostensibly against ethnic or geographical federalism and supports the reintroduction of a constitutional monarchy, although in practice they – along with other active pro-monarchist players such as the Rastriya Janamorcha Pary (RJM) – understand that federalism is unavoidable and as such want to ensure the rights of upper castes such as Brahmins and Chetris will be recognised in the new constitution.
The success of RJM bandhs in eastern and mid-western districts and the small yet notable turnout of the Chetri Samaj demonstrations in Pokhara, Gorkha and Kathmandu during February illustrates the strength of anti-federalist sentiment amongst some aspects of the population.
Negotiations concerning further alliances between these forces are a realistic prospect in the coming weeks and months.
Thus, with less than ninety days to go to the constitution-drafting deadline, political actors at every level in Nepal are scrambling for new partnerships and strategies to influence the final document. Yet why should that come as any surprise?
The formation of opportunistic, strategic alliances is the bread and butter of politics, least of all Nepali politics.
The succession of ruling coalition governments throughout the 1990s and into the new millennium and the plethora of political actors who instigated the first and second Jan Andolans in 1990 and 2006 respectively, are apt illustrations that political alliances based on short to medium term goals are nothing new in Nepal.
Furthermore, given the critical importance of the new constitution, which shall radically restructure political and economic organisation of the country, why would we expect anything different? Indeed – barring armed groups – why should we be concerned by the mobilisation of Dalits, Muslims, Tharus and Madhesi, communities historically marginalised from politics in Kathmandu? Surely we should embrace their political activity?
The inclusion of previously excluded groups into the national political agenda – most aptly demonstrated by the success of Madhesi parties in the April 2008 elections – is a profoundly important development in Nepali politics.
Moreover the CA is the most representative and egalitarian ruling apparatus in the country’s history. However, in spite these huge strides forward, this should not preclude caution and even reticence about the nature of new political alliances and the speed in which they are formed.
Built on flimsy opportunism they are unsustainable and vulnerable to collapse, the consequences of which could be extremely destabilising.
Firstly, rebuilding relationships with and across sensitive and angry marginalised political actors will be that much harder in the future.
Appeasing historic differences between rival factions of the FLSC or reconciling the agendas of the Madhesi and Tharu movement, not to mention internal divisions that such alliances would cause within those respective parties or committees, has been a painstaking exercise for political negotiators so far.
More splits would render similar associations an unviable option in the future, which given the historic importance coalitions have played in Nepal and heterogeneous number of actors from different ethnic, religious or regional contexts that need to be accommodated in the new political framework, would be disastrous.
Secondly, the legitimacy of ethnic political concerns amongst the Kathmandu elite will be severely damaged. The Madhesi movement has been more successful than other ethnic struggles because of the MJF’s sustained and unified political movement.
Although the future direction and composition of the Madhesi movement is currently being vigorously contested, it had unprecedented success because it persistently challenged established politically parties from April 2006 onwards whilst maintaining legitimacy with grassroots activists in the Terai.
As a result, voters had a positive, credible alternative at the ballot box in April 2008 to challenge the hegemony of Kathmandu’s established parties.
Most importantly, another blow to the various communities they are representing could open the door for militants.
Political and ethnic awareness may not be particularly sophisticated but it is relatively much higher than during the initial transition to democracy in 1990, especially after the United Communist Party of Nepal-Maoist (UCPN-M) stoked ethnic grievances during recruitment in the civil war.
Although the threat of political militancy was significantly damaged by the Special Security Plan, a failure of legitimate political actors to consolidate their political alliances and achieve tangible results in the forthcoming constitution will increase frustration amongst the communities they represent and leave them vulnerable to recruitment and terror campaigns from criminal and armed political groups.
This threat is particularly acute given the release of recently disqualified combatants (and qualified soldiers in the future) from the military cantonments around the country. Disqualified combatants (DC) have been issues an unofficial mandate from the Maoists to continue the grassroots revolution in isolated, underdeveloped and ethnically marginalised communities.
The number of international NGOs which have tried to harness and channel the political awakening of DCs and ethnically charged communities into constructive, peaceful dialogue is an indication that many in the security and development sector have begun to recognise this trend.
Certainly, each of the aforementioned political alliances will have their own specific nuances and caveats: competing ideological motivations is bound to lead to different internal structures and strategies. Furthermore, their success will also depend on the sophistication and strength of grassroots support they have established.
The Limbuwan political movement, for example, has developed stronger local presence because their internal structure is more resilient and organised. On the other hand, the Tharuhut movement has struggled to recruit Tharuhut Liberation Army cadres or garner support in their target communities of Banke, Bardiya and Dang.
Nevertheless, the longevity and ultimate success of all such political alliances will depend on their respective ability to develop mechanisms which accommodate internal differences and absorb external shocks, particularly meddling from established political parties which have tried to manipulate them in the past, in order to survive.
To a large extent this will rest on the substance of the political associations: those based on a predominant common agenda (“positive alliances”) will last much longer than those formed to counter and in image of an ”other” (“negative alliances”). More often than not this ‘other’ is the Maoists or Youth Communist League (YCL) who remain the most skillfull mobiliser of indigenous support throughout the country.
However, in regions of the country where the UCPN-M historically have limited presence, such as eastern hill and Terai districts, groups such as the FLSC can and will challenge their grip on local politics.
Conversely, joint ventures such as the Laxman Tharu-Yadav alliance are unlikely to succeed because of their historic differences, personality and ego clashes and fundamentally competing political goals.
Indeed, Madhesi and Tharu activists have privately expressed surprise and scepticism over the future of this pact. However even the Madhesi movement has begun to falter because the foundation on which the movement was built – the ‘Madhesi’ identity – has been shaken.
The Madhesi Jan Andolan was so successful because it expressed anti-Pahadi feeling in a positive, pro-Madhesi rhetoric.
However, as competing forms of identity such as class, caste (Dalits vs Yadavs), gender, religion (Muslims), region and ethnicity (Tharus and Limbuwans), have become more prevalent, the importance of the Madhesi identity amongst people living in the Terai has begun to wane.
As the special and technical constitution drafting committees enter the second phase of negotiation, pressure from the multiple interest groups that have a stake in the constitution – nationally, regionally and locally – is going to intensify.
While it is imperative that members from these communities are included in the process to generate a radical and progressive redistribution of power, the architects of the Nepali constitution must not be held to ransom by political entrepreneurs heading opportunistic alliances which risk wrecking consensus.
Development and post-conflict reconstruction workers, both from the domestic and international public and non-for-profit sectors, must also be prepared for the social unrest, frustration and local insecurity which will be triggered if or when these alliances disintegrate.
Oliver Housden, an Associate Researcher for the Royal United Services Institute for Defence and Security Studies (RUSI) in London, recently completed a two-month fieldwork trip on ethnic political violence and security in the Terai.
His work on South Asian politics has been widely published both in the UK and South Asia. For more info, visit his website www.anewnepal.com.