Very often, time heals personal as well as social injuries. Some wounds, however, are too deep to be left at the mercy of natural progression. In such cases, balms have to be applied to speed up the process of convalescence.
In the last week of 2009, organizers of the “End Violence Campaign” had chosen Nepalgunj to hold its public meeting to help ease some of the persistent pains of communal riots that had engulfed the town three years earlier.[break]
A huge ground was the venue of the mass meeting. The stage was elevated and grand. Bamboo barricades had been put up to prevent intruders from climbing up the lofty platform. A posse of policeman guarded the route. Volunteers formed a human chain to help speakers get on the stage without being mobbed by the masses. All this bandobast had been necessary to protect three superstars—Rajesh Hamal, Madan Krishna Shrestha, and Haribansha Acharya—from their legions of fans that had been waiting for hours to get a glimpse of their idols.
It was unusually warm for December. Despite all efforts, it’s very difficult to begin such programs on schedule. Guest speakers—“patrons” in the NGO-speak of organizers, perhaps to denote that they weren’t being paid for their time and effort—had been waiting in a corner for the show to begin. Feeling a bit uncomfortable with the late-morning heat, Haribansha whispered to Madan Krishna, “It would’ve been better if we hadn’t worn the trouser.” Kanak Mani Dixit joined the conversation, “Then worn what? Have you brought your shorts?”
Haribansha probably guessed that Kanak had been referring to a “pair of trousers” rather than a trouser, in singular, that he was wearing under his ‘pant.’ The proper term for such underpants is probably thermals, inner wears, layers, or even long johns.
Words that one uses, knowingly or unknowingly, is an indication of the social standing of the person. The symbolic, argues Jacques Lacan, is a function of speech and language. Words and worldview then gets intertwined.
Had community been the only criterion of belongingness, it should’ve been easier for Haribansha to share his feelings with someone from his own Acharya sub-caste, Nepali linguistic background, and perhaps similar lifestyle as well. Distinctions of background, upbringing, education, occupation and networks differentiate even a member of the ruling community from one another. The outlook of the marginalized and the externalized is drastically different from the real, imagined or the symbolic mainstream.
Photo: Chandra Shekhar Karki
Class, too, doesn’t put two people on equal footing in societies bound by tradition and hierarchy. Binod Chaudhary may yell from the rooftops that he has done his country proud by becoming the first-ever ‘Dollar Billionaire’ from Nepal, but it’s unlikely that his ‘Nobel-like’ achievement has made even middle-class Bahun, Chhetri, and Newar (BCN) compatriots, let alone Swadeshi capitalists of the Maoist school, accept him as their social equal. They may hesitate to articulate their disapproval—money, too, is a form of power—but for the BCN ‘patriots,’ Binod will forever be a Marwari who manipulated his way to the top. The billionaire’s achievements then become the cause of jealousy and resentment rather than admiration and inspiration.
The symbolic of language encompasses a set of values and preferences that includes and excludes without anyone noticing its intricacies. The inherent message, however, is unmistakable. Hegemony works because its subjects accept it not just willingly but enthusiastically.
Lowered eyes
The most happening place in Bhairahawa, the gateway to Lumbini, is the Devkota Chowk. Around here, there are upscale hotels with casinos and swimming pools, travel agencies that can manage seats on ‘fully booked’ flights to Kathmandu, car rentals that openly admit of surviving on NGO-activism, and conference facilities frequented by parachutists from Kathmandu and beyond.
The most distinctive feature of Devkota Chowk, however, is that nobody here speaks Awadhi, the lingua franca of the countryside in the Tarai-Madhesh of Lumbini and Bheri region. When a fruit seller, a wage laborer, or a rickshaw puller has to respond in the local language, they lower their voice. The naming of the Chowk is indicative enough.
It’s not known whether Tulsidas or Malik Mohammad Jaisi, two of the greatest literary masters of the 16th century in Awadhi, or any other language for that matter, have a memorial built in their honor anywhere in the Awadh region of Nepal. Tulsi’s “Ramcharitmanas” (believed to have been composed in the 1570s) is a part of cultural-mental furniture of Hindus not only of Indians residing in the plains north of Vindhyas and Nepalis living in the lowlands south of the Mahabharat Ranges, but also of diasporic communities from these regions in Mauritius, the Caribbean, and countries of Europe and America. Sufi allegories of Jayasi in Padmavat continue to be a masterpiece read by scholars of Indo-Aryan languages everywhere.
A little deeper inside, westwards along a fairly comfortable single-lane road, Awadhi is spoken as a matter of course in Taulihawa. At a public hearing, even the Chief District Officer, the local Raja for all practical purposes, claims that he can’t speak Awadhi but understands it well enough to respond in Hindi. So, Hindi, after all, is more useful for the Pahadi ruling community in Tarai-Madhesh than the Madheshis. Meanwhile, Awadhis try their best to impress officers manning outposts of the state in the frontier district by speaking in Nepali and repeatedly fail to properly express themselves.
Apart from government officials, the Ranas didn’t expect ordinary Madheshis to speak Gorkha Bhasha. Gorkhali agents of the state in the Tarai-Madhesh were then forced to eat, dress and talk like locals except when they were to present themselves to inspection teams from the center. It was King Mahendra who killed the diversity of the country and sapped the creativity of the countryside with his one-language, one-culture, one-religion and one-dress formula.
Critics find fault with symbols of uniformity on the grounds of impracticality. There’s nothing impractical about Nepali. It’s a rich, vibrant and growing language and is rooted deeply in the local and diasporic cultures of the Karnali, Rapti, and Gandak Basins. Distinctive dress of an influential community of Nepal, the Labeda Suruwal—teamed with black pump shoes, western-style formal jacket, wide woven belt with shiny buckles, and Bhadgaunle black or multi-color Dhaka topi—is a spectacular, if somewhat extravagant, ensemble. Their power lies in the fact that the ensemble makes those not accustomed to the specific culture feel inferior. The CDO doesn’t have to force a petitioner speak in Nepali as the Commissioners of the Panchayat era once did. It’s the perception among the masses that failure to adopt the lifestyles of the ruling community would put them at a disadvantage that turns them into mimic men of Naipaulian allusions.
Managed expectations
Creating conditions for the emergence of caricature and making copycats respectable is the fundamental technique of enslavement. Macaulay manufactured the Brown Englishman and enchained the Indian mind for a long time to come. Mahendrism has produced Nationalist Madheshis who refuse to realize that they would perhaps be better Nepalis by being what they are rather than wasting their energy in becoming what they can never authentically be.
Social scientists define worldview as a “pattern of beliefs, behaviours, and perceptions that are shared by a population based on similar socialization and life experiences.” The aspired worldview, however, is mainly affected by the use of resources—the social, human and cultural capital—that helps establish norms and values of the mainstream.
Social capital is made up of connections, relationships, and networks, and functions around “who you know.” Despite the wave of the Madhesh Uprising, voters of Kapilvastu sent Dip Kumar Upadhyaya (Lamichhane?) to the dissolved Constituent Assembly where he spent more time running down Madheshi aspirations for federalism and inclusion than in protecting, let alone promoting, their interests.
The “what you know” factor of the human and intellectual capital, too, is not entirely free of who puts a value and what is perceived as true knowledge. It’s the cultural capital—a complex web of rituals, arts, customs, languages, songs, dances, and ceremonial practices—that marks a member of an externalized community as an outsider. In his eagerness to prove belongingness, he fakes, fails and falls in his own eyes.
An influential section of Madheshis has been conditioned to accept their humiliation (“the enforced lowering of a person or group, a process of subjugation that damages or strips away their pride, honor or dignity”) as normal and are frightened to emerge out of the mainstream mask. Recognition of difference is perhaps the point of departure for empowerment. Subjection begins to weaken the moment its existence is accepted with dignity.
Lal contributes to the week with his biweekly column Reflections. He is one of the widely read poliitical analysts in Nepal.
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