History sometimes plays strange tricks with the destiny of a country through transformation of its political actors. Mohammad Ali Jinnah was an icon of Hindu-Muslim unity till the early-1940s. In less than a decade, he called for the ‘Direct Action’ that resulted in one of the worst carnages in the world. The British India became two independent countries of India and Pakistan. Indians haven’t yet forgiven a person that Pakistanis revere as the Quaide-i-Azam—the Great Leader. The Quaide, however, changed not just the political geography of the region but also the trajectory of its history.
Having once been a close confidante of H. S. Suhrawardy, the architect of Jinnah’s Direct Action that consumed lives of thousands of innocent Bengalese prior to the Partition, Sheikh Mujibar Rahman was initially a staunch Pakistani. History had a different destiny for him in mind: It first turned him into the Father of the Nation and then sacrificed him on the altar of nationalism. The legacy of Bangabandhu continues in the country of his creation, but his dreams don’t appear safe as Islamism and militarism dig deeper roots in the nation-state of Bangladesh.
Events unfolded differently in Sri Lanka where failure of the agenda of moderate Tamil leaders resulted in the emergence of Tigers. The rest is a history of the degeneration of the Serendip—the land of serendipity—into a hell hole of violent insurgency and brutal counterinsurgency.
Why do some of the most intelligent men and women in politics let events deteriorate to the point of disintegration? There are no easy answers. Personal motivation perhaps plays the most important role. Both Jawaharlal Nehru and Jinnah wanted to be at the top of the political heap after the departure of the British. Creation of two political units became inevitable to accommodate their ambitions.
A new country was forced upon Bangabandhu when the military-bureaucratic nexus in Islamabad refused to recognize the identity and dignity of Bengalese. However, his ambition to be the savior of the new nation probably led to his demise in a military coup. Prabhakaran cashed frustrations of Tamils with moderate leaders to build one of the most vicious militant organizations in the world. Horrendous for as long as it lasted, the end of his mission was no less tragic.
Obduracy, defined as the tendency of stubbornly refusing to change one’s opinion or course of action, isn’t very common among politicians. Called the art of the possible, politics is ultimately a game of compromises. Even parties that fight a war have to mostly end it all on the negotiating table.
Puerile patriotism
In the communist jargon, revisionism—understood as the modification of Marxism into pluralism—is a derogatory term. Pushpa Kamal Dahal used to thunder, “I hate revisionism. I seriously hate revisionism. I never compromise with revisionism. I have fought and fought with revisionism.” Today, it’s his highest ambition to be accepted as an ardent revisionist so that his claims upon the leadership of the government in the coming days begin to sound plausible.
KB Gurung refused to disown his beliefs in constitutional monarchy, but that didn’t stop him from declaring the republic or being a candidate for its second Presidency. Sher Bahadur Deuba kept singing paeans in praise of Shah Kings until his last day in office. He clearly holds a different view now. Hindutva is the only agenda of Kamal Thapa’s political outfit. He has sworn to implement a constitution that is at least nominally secular. Opposing federalism was the main platform of Chitra Bahadur KC. He was sworn into office to protect a federal constitution.
Premier Khadga Prasad Sharma Oli has been unabashedly against republicanism, federalism, secularism and inclusion. The history has thrust the responsibility of implementing all these goals of every People’s Movement in the country upon his unwilling shoulders. Politicos of Nepal are extremely practical and ideological flexibility is their defining characteristic. However, when it comes to Madhesh, Pahadi politicos of all persuasions—notable exceptions apart—become unanimously obstinate. There is a reason Samuel Johnson pronounced that patriotism was the last refuge of a scoundrel: Excessive love for a person or a country closes all rational faculties. The patriot or the lover refuses to retreat even when obsession begins to harm the object of his or her passion.
Most Madheshi claims for political reorganization are a lot less revolutionary or progressive than the overthrow of monarchy. Delineation of electoral constituencies on population basis is an expression of “one person, one vote and equal weight to all votes” principle of democracy. Proportionate inclusion in the structures of the state has emerged as one of the universal values. It’s difficult to believe that politicos who have worked all their lives for social justice need to be reminded of their own beliefs.
One among half-a-dozen deputies of Premier Oli is being hounded by the ghost of Sikkimization. Another Deputy Premier feels re-demarcation of federal boundaries will lead to disintegration of the country. But no matter how one creates federal provinces, national unity, integrity, sovereignty and independence remain secure as long as benefits of staying together outweighs its costs. Unfortunately, every politico that spouts patriotism seems to be causing more harm than good to the stability of the country.
Jejune jingoism
It doesn’t need a deep knowledge of economics to realize that the country is headed for a crisis. Tangible setbacks will be possible to recoup, but the loss of faith in governance will have long term impact on the political economy.
Social costs of the crisis in Madhesh are difficult to estimate. Schools have remained closed for four months. Hospitals have been doing little else than treating victims of police brutalities. Unlike in Madhesh Uprisings I and II, activists have been careful this time in maintaining goodwill between Pahadi and Madheshi communities. But reason is a poor antidote to apprehensions—many Pahadis are less certain about their future in Madhesh than they were before. The existing divide between communities has deepened.
Culture of impunity is an integral part of Nepali politics. That is the reason a person accused of suppression of political movements of 1990 as well as 2006 is a Deputy Premier. No investigation has even begun against police officers that went beyond the call of duty and shot unarmed protestors in the chest or head with an intention to kill.
Involvement of security agencies in the smuggling of goods across long and open Indo-Nepal border is difficult to establish but impossible to deny. There is a reason petrol is available in the open market of Kathmandu at three to four times the scheduled price. It may provide a welcome relief to those affected by disruptions in supplies from India through normal channels, but its long-term negative repercussions for the state machinery are perhaps irreparable.
The legality of the government enjoying clear majority in the parliament is unquestionable. Its international legitimacy has weakened considerably due to non-performance—the immoral negligence of the plight of earthquake victims is indefensible. The acceptability of the state, however, has dipped immeasurably in Tarai-Madhesh. Why does the country have to bear such high costs for ambitions and obsessions of a few high-caste Hindu males of mid-mountains who think that whatever is in their interest is also the national interest? There is no explanation.
Mild-mannered Mahanth Thakur has spent almost half-a-century fighting for democracy. Kids unworthy of being his grandson question his integrity and patriotism. Schooled in Marxism and Maoism—hence in Mahendrist nationalism by extension—Upendra Yadav has reasons to get exasperated when youngsters who can’t spell or pronounce deshbhakti in Nepali correctly taunt his allegiance to the country. Politicos of Joint Madheshi Front are no better or worse than their Pahadi counterparts in PEON parties. It seems there is little incentive for them to become better.
The politics in Madhesh can swing towards radicalization of existing parties or their complete eclipse with the emergence of extremist forces championing secession. Patriotism at this juncture entails taking measures to prevent such outcomes, not spewing hate against Madheshis or Indians. This government can probably still bear the cost of its vacuous patriotism. But the nation will have to pay a very heavy price. There is no workable alternative to immediate political settlement with Madheshbadi parties.
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