Clean Bagmati campaign
KMC’s independent mayoral candidate Shah gets stick as his elec...
Why is the Bagmati river so nauseating dirty? You wouldn't believe so much filth could accumulate in the holy river of the Hindus that fifty years ago was a favorite swimming destination of Kathmandu denizens; some fondly recall how they could drink strait out of the river. You wouldn't believe it on the strength of the gigantic mass that turned up by Bagmati on Saturday to mark the 100th week of the Clean Bagmati Campaign. At least a 100,000 people linked their hands to form a human chain spanning the entire length of Bagmati river inside Kathmandu valley. But if the consciousness is so high among common folks, why would they so badly pollute the river that it stinks a mile away? There is standard economics explanation (of sorts) to this neglect of public property: the tragedy of the commons. If something is the property of everybody—as all public properties invariably are—it is the responsibility of no one in particular to look after it. Everyone conveniently assumes that the other person will do it. We keep tossing trash into Bagmati since everyone else is doing it, or, we mistakenly believe, there is someone else to clean up.
Thankfully, it is sometimes possible to reverse the tragedy of the commons, as demonstrated by Nepal's remarkable success in community forest management. By transferring ownership and management of forests to forest user groups, the biggest culprits behind deforestation were transformed overnight into ready allies in forest conservation. Since each household got direct benefits—in terms of firewood for their homes, fodder for their cattle and added income from the old trees that could be felled—everybody started taking keen interest in sustainable management of their local forest. Perhaps learning from the success of community forestry, one of the goals of the Clean Bagmati campaign has also been to turn careless river polluters into ardent conservationists. There is indeed something to the campaigners' argument that someone who takes part in the campaign once is unlikely to piss in it ever again. Better still might be a publicity campaign that offers compelling health reasons to clean up our dirty acts. As recent success of the anti-smoking campaign in Nepal suggests, personalized health warnings, more often than not, hit their mark.The other way of going about it would be to convince those who own land and buildings riverside that the value of their property could increase considerably if surrounding environment were a little cleaner. A change in tack is warranted as current efforts to pique public civic consciousness—'let's act like civilized citizens'—are falling woefully short. For every person who has ever participated in Clean Bagmati campaign and internalized his civic duties, there are at least 10 others who have not bothered and continue to copiously pollute. It is also about time we started penalizing those who blithely pollute our waterways. Lee Kuan Yew's Singapore is an example of how punitive measures can act as strong deterrent against littering. If carrots are not working, maybe it's time to wield a mighty stick.
