NEPAL seems to be one of those countries permanently at the crossroads. In Kathmandu, every week is a make or break one with lurking doubts about the viability of the peace process. Will negotiations break down? Are all actors committed to the peace roadmap? Will angry ethnic groups, particularly Madhesis, support the process? And the big question – will elections to the constituent assembly, twice postponed in the last year, happen on April 10 as scheduled?

The uncertainty is inevitable given that Nepal is undergoing a critical political transition. This becomes more pronounced at times when a political deadlock cripples negotiations. But beneath the constant turmoil, radical public rhetoric and sporadic violence, the country has undergone a fundamental transformation in the past two years.

An autocratic monarch has been deposed through a non-violent mass movement. The political parties are back in the saddle. A decade-long civil war has ended with an insurgent force, the Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist), promising to give up violence and abide by multiparty democracy. The ‘democratic mainstream’ as it existed in the 1990s has been redefined, based on the recognition that the old state structure failed to address people’s aspirations. There is widespread acceptance about the need to shift from a Kathmandu-centred unitary structure to federalism, from a Hindu state to secularism, from a system controlled by hill upper-castes to a more just and equitable framework, and from a narrow notion of nationalism to a more inclusive one. Nepal truly is not the same country anymore.

But it has not been easy. Nor can the process be said to be successful or complete yet, with the peace process facing multiple challenges. The Maoists have struggled to reconcile the contradictions inherent in espousing radical goals and having a militant cadre with the requirements of the peace process. The realization that they have a limited mass base, in strictly electoral terms, has not helped. The mainstream parties at the helm of the government, particularly the Nepali Congress and the Communist Party of Nepal (Unified Marxist Leninist), have neither reformed nor have they succeeded in providing basic service delivery. The reluctance of parties to go in for polls, either because they want to perpetuate status quo or due to fear about electoral prospects, has created wide public disenchantment and raised questions about the legitimacy of the present system.

 

The opening of democratic space has meant that long suppressed voices of excluded communities – ethnic groups, women, Dalits and Madhesis – have begun asserting themselves. Among these, the resentment of Madhesis in the country’s southern plains, the Tarai, ranks as the single most important phenomenon. While positive in itself, it has added to the pressure on an already weak and incompetent state headed by an 86-year-old ailing Prime Minister, Girija Prasad Koirala. The deteriorating public security, eight hours of power cuts every day, and fuel shortages does not help, lending an air of anarchy.

The monarchy is in a suspended state with the provision that the first sitting of the constituent assembly would formally abolish the institution. For obvious reasons, the palace and its affiliates would be happy to see this process collapse. While the king-army relationship has undergone some change, sections in the top leadership of the army are against being put under civilian control. They have rejected the idea of security sector reform – a critical component of the peace process – which would involve integrating former Maoist combatants in the national army. The civil society, which played a key role in the restoration of democracy, is fragmented and busy fighting among itself. And the delicate consensus between India, which has enormous influence in Nepal, and the rest of the international community about the right way ahead for the peace process has gone through immense strain.

In face of these incredible challenges, Nepal’s political class has decided to hold polls on April 10. This has happened largely because of pressure from India, which sees polls as the logical conclusion of the peace process it has micro-managed, and the Nepali people, who have not voted for nine years and view the constituent assembly as the most legitimate platform to discuss state restructuring. Elections look like a real possibility now. But so does an escalation in violence from different quarters – royalists, Madhesi extremists, sections of Maoists – which may be used as a pretext to put off polls once again at the last minute. If that happens, it will almost certainly lead to the collapse of the peace process. At the same time, there is worry about the nature of elections, post election scenarios and the way results will impact the attitudes and commitment of the main actors towards the peace process.

 

Close engagement between the Maoists and the mainstream parties, particularly the NC and UML, explains the success of the peace process so far. From the 12 point agreement of November 2005, signed in Delhi, to fight an autocratic monarch, to the Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) a year later marking the end of the ‘People’s War’, the negotiation process has been tense, but characterized by flexibility. Both sides need each other. The big parties realize that Maoist participation contributed to the regime change and the people’s mandate is for peace and democracy. Going back to war is a non-option, for it would once again squeeze the democratic space and strengthen extremists on both sides.

The Maoists realized they had reached the limits of their military campaign, that a takeover of the capital was not possible, and engaging with India and the rest of the international community was a strategic necessity. While there are sections among them who see the present interlude as merely a tactical ploy, the top leadership appears reconciled to ‘bourgeois democracy’ and hopes to push their agenda in that framework.

 

The CPA provided for UN supervision of Maoist soldiers and arms. This was followed by an interim constitution promulgated with the consent of the Maoists and the then seven-party alliance. It was decided that the first session of the constituent assembly would vote on the fate of monarchy. An interim legislature was constituted with 83 new Maoist members. And after intense bargaining, an interim government was formed on April 1 last year with five Maoist ministers. Even as the process of the Maoists becoming an integral part of the mainstream polity was underway, there were latent issues that emerged changing all political calculations, like the Madhesi rebellion. Elections were slated for June. But neither the parties, nor the Election Commission were prepared for it.

The new poll dates were announced for November 22. But it was in this period that tensions within the Maoists came to the surface. There had been rising discontent among sections of the Maoists. The former soldiers were living in miserable conditions in cantonments, with the government dragging its feet on even releasing their payment. The cadre was disillusioned – they had been told that the peace process was a victory for the Maoists, but there was little visible achievement with all revolutionary aims on the back burner. The government had not even set up a commission to investigate cases of those who have disappeared, or provided compensation to families. To top it all, the electoral base of the Maoists was by all indications limited, with even internal calculations suggesting that the former rebels would not win more than 10 to 12 per cent of the vote.

 

The radical section of the leadership, especially former military commander Ram Bahadur Thapa ‘Badal’ and senior leader Kiran, had been skeptical of the peace process from the outset. They now ratcheted up the rhetoric, claiming that the Maoists had lost out because they had given up on their core agenda of republicanism, a fully proportional representation based system, and ‘nationalism’, by cozying too much with the Indians.

With the moderate leadership on the defensive, the Maoists imposed two new preconditions – immediate declaration of a republic and full PR. Even as the other side had not fulfilled its part of the bargain honestly, this shifting of goalposts by the Maoists was seen by observers in Kathmandu as a move to run away from polls. Elections had to be cancelled once again. And the last few months of 2007 were characterized by a political deadlock. It was only in end December, under tremendous pressure from civil society and the international community, that the NC and Maoist reached a compromise.

Under the 23-point agreement, the country would be a republic, but this had to be confirmed by the CA. And the electoral system, which had a mix of first-past-the-post and PR seats in equal ratio, would be modified to allot a greater share to the PR seats. Under PR, a party gets to select candidates in accordance with its vote share – its list has to be inclusive of the country’s marginalized communities, with half the seats for women. The Maoists, who believe they have a greater chance of winning votes in PR than direct seats, have expressed their commitment to the April 10 polls.

The challenge for the peace process, and the reluctance to go in for polls, has come from other sections of the SPA as well. The right wing, particularly in the Nepali Congress, has consistently made provocative statements. This faction, which includes the PM’s daughter and now minister without portfolio Sujata Koirala, has openly advocated ceremonial monarchy, is flirting with conservative sections in the army, and is viscerally opposed to the Maoists.

The NC, it is widely believed, has the most to lose in elections. It has a disproportionate share of power in Kathmandu, but faces the threat of serious losses in the Tarai, its erstwhile vote base. Many in the party still want to save the monarchy, and Koirala wants to anoint his unpopular daughter as successor – in both cases, a no poll scenario seems more helpful. At the same time, Girija Prasad Koirala seems to have realized that an alternative political configuration might crop up if elections do not happen, strengthening the right wing in the short term and the ultra left in the long run, and thus threatening his and NC’s political survival. He has publicly staked his legacy on holding elections in April – an important reason to believe that polls will indeed be held this time around.

 

In January 2007, Nepal saw a mass movement by Madhesis, who comprise 33 per cent of the country’s population. Madhesis are people of plains origin who live in the Tarai, share extensive cultural, linguistic, religious, and kinship ties with people across the border in Bihar and Uttar Pradesh, and speak Maithili, Bhojpuri, Awadhi, Urdu and Hindi. Hill-centric Nepali nationalism, which revolved around notions of one language and one dress, saw Madhesis as outsiders. They were systematically discriminated and excluded from state structures. While a few regional parties, especially the Sadbhavana Party (SP), did try to raise the issue of Madhesi discrimination, they were neither able to garner the support of the larger Madhesi population, nor make a dent in national politics. The Maoists, as a part of their strategy to tap into ethnic discontent, mobilized Madhesis to some extent, and contributed to the militant consciousness in the Tarai.

 

It was during the promulgation of the interim constitution early last year that Madhesis finally began to assert themselves. Irked by an inequitable electoral system and silence on federalism, they took to the streets in unprecedented numbers for 21 days. The killing of a Madhesi protestor by a Maoist at the beginning of the agitation also lent an anti-Maoist thrust to the movement, much to the happiness of other mainstream parties and sections of the international community. The prime minister was forced to relent and, in an address to the nation, agreed to amend the constitution and increase seats in the Tarai.

The Madhesi movement is as much for symbolic gestures, a sense of dignity and respect, as it is for substantive change in power-sharing arrangements and representation. Unfortunately, the Kathmandu establishment refused to appreciate the nature of the movement. The past year has been characterized by state insensitivity. Madhesi groups asked for the dismissal of the home minister, for he was held responsible for 40 killings due to police firing during the agitation, but the PM refused. They asked for the setting up of a commission to investigate the atrocities – the government took four months to do so and appointed the police chief of the eastern region, responsible for the killings, as a member.

There was a pan-Tarai demand to declare all those killed as martyrs, but the state dragged its feet. There was an agreement to delineate constituencies in the Tarai, but to the chagrin of Madhesi politicians, it was done in a manner that would benefit the candidates of hill-origin. The state never implemented its promise of inclusion. When a Madhesi minister wanted to take his oath in Maithili, there was a huge hue and cry about how it could only happen in Nepali. Trivial as many of these incidents may seem, they contributed to the alienation in Madhes, and strengthened the extremists.

 

If Kathmandu’s insularity was one part of the picture, a weak and fragmented Madhesi leadership was the other. The Madhesi Janaadhikar Forum (MJF) emerged as an umbrella formation at the head of the movement. It made a tactical blunder of continuing with the agitation even after the PM had made the concessions. The Forum leader, Upendra Yadav, was suspected of having links with the palace and the Hindu right (he had met Yogi Adityanath in Gorakhpur). These dubious links with forces which were against the peace process, an unclear political agenda, internal splits, weak organization and the failure to effectively communicate the contours of a deal it signed with the government left the party discredited.

This led to a severe political vacuum in the Tarai over the past year, with mainstream parties having lost out support and the Madhesi parties unable to fill in the space. The state administration, for its part, was crippled. The process of re-establishing police posts in villages, possible now with the end of the civil war, was halted because of the Madhesi movement. There was little political direction from the top. And local officials were happy turning a blind eye to the lawlessness instead of earning the wrath of political patrons.

 

All these were ripe ingredients for militancy. There has been a proliferation of armed groups, with demands ranging from outright secession to complete autonomy. The line between politics and crime is blurred, and most groups are rag-tag outfits of 20-25 people who found an easy political cover to make money. Among these, the Janatantrik Tarai Mukti Morcha (JTMM) factions, headed by Jai Krishna Goit and Jwala Singh, have emerged as the most important outfits. They lack a clear work-plan, an effective organizational structure or ideological coherence. But they have the capacity to engineer targeted communal killings, especially against pahadis in Tarai, bring life to a standstill through strikes, and create fear.

The situation in Madhes is thus characterized by multiple faultlines – between the state and an angry Madhesi population, between Madhesi groups and Maoists which was manifested in the killing of 28 Maoists by MJF activists in March last year, among Madhesi groups for political space, and between pahadis, who constitute 33 per cent of the Tarai population, and Madhesis. More than 200 people have died during the past year in Tarai during clashes and killings.

There was a watershed moment last December when senior Madhesi leaders from different national parties quit to set up a regional outfit, the Tarai-Madhes Loktantrik Party headed by former Congressman Mahant Thakur, revealing the depth of regional and ethnic sentiments. This was greeted with hope that the movement would assume a clear political form. Subsequently, the MJF, the TMLP and SP formed an alliance and announced a joint agitation in Madhes, demanding an immediate commitment to autonomy and right to self determination in a future federal system, inclusion of Madhesis in state organs, and a flexible interpretation of electoral laws which would allow these parties to send in more Madhesi representatives. They warned of boycotting polls in case their demands were not met. After 17 days of crippling life in the Tarai, and blocking essential supplies to Kathmandu, the Madhesi parties came to an agreement with the government, paving the way for polls on April 10.

 

But all is not quiet on the Madhes front yet. The armed groups have threatened to disrupt polls. They fear that a smooth election, whose results and legitimacy is widely accepted, would marginalize them completely. Many of these groups also have links with royalist elements in Kathmandu, their interests converging in discrediting this process. At the same time, militants do not have the capacity to wreck the entire election on their own. They also realize that people want polls. At one level, extremists will engineer a few bomb blasts, attack election officials, and possibly kidnap and kill a few candidates, while at the other, they will strike deals with candidates promising security in return for money. Kathmandu would be prudent to kick-start a process of back-channel communication with them, in order to defuse the immediate damage as well as bring them on board in the long-term.

 

India is the most important international actor in Nepal. In fact, its influence is such that it is seen as separate from the rest of the international community – almost as another local actor. New Delhi’s role over the past two years in Nepal has been fairly constructive – from brokering the Maoist-parties pact, opposing the royal despot, mediating negotiations at every step in Kathmandu, consistently emphasizing the need for elections, and forcing the government and Madhesi groups to come to an agreement. For once, India’s stated interest – of wanting a stable Nepal – converges with that of the Nepali people at large. There is little doubt that India would use its massive influence and leverage for its own economic and security interests, but that argument cannot be used to minimize the positive role played by the Indian establishment, in particular the PM’s special envoy Shyam Saran and Ambassador Shiv Shanker Mukherjee.

However, this cannot be said of the entire Indian polity. The BJP has not only opposed the policy position adopted by India, but openly advocated monarchy and Hindu rashtra in Nepal. Royal lobbyists have found a ready audience in the top VHP and BJP leadership in Delhi. Local Hindutva elements, from Adityanath in Gorakhpur to Baba Sanjay Nath in Raxaul at the Bihar border, have encouraged Madhesi extremists and anti-Maoist vigilantism. While fringe Hindutva elements still advocate an active role for the monarchy, the larger Sangh parivar’s key aim appears to be weakening the Maoists in Nepal for they believe there is a deep Naxalite-Maoist nexus, a belief that has been countered by Home Minister Shivraj Patil. The Hindu right clearly exaggerates these links, for deep differences characterize the relationship of the ultra left in the two countries.

The Madhesi movement has also found support of local politicians in Bihar. To an extent, this is understandable. There are deep kinship and cultural links between Madhes and Bihar and sympathy for their brethren fighting for a just cause is natural. But criminal elements in Bihar, where law and order has improved under the Nitish Kumar regime, have found the Madhes cause a neat political cover to step up criminal activities in Nepal. The open border and links with Madhesi extremists helps facilitate this.

The Indian establishment is also not guilt-free as far as Madhes extremism is concerned. Militants operate from Indian territory – bordering areas of Bihar and UP in particular. The state administration has turned a blind eye to their activities. To be fair, given the nature of the cross border linkages, it may not be possible to step up the heat against these extremists, especially in a context when Kathmandu itself has not done enough to reach out. But the fact that Indian intelligence agencies, especially the RAW, are in touch with these extremists has prompted suspicion whether sections in the Indian government are planning to use the Madhes card as a leverage in Kathmandu. The Indian government would do well to come clean on the matter.

 

China’s interest in Nepal has visibly increased over the past two years. For most part, Beijing has accepted that Nepal is in India’s sphere of influence. But it was caught by surprise with the People’s Movement and the political change that accompanied it. Enhanced US interest and activities, the Indo-US policy of collaboration on Nepal, the presence of a high-profile UN mission, the need for leverage with the new actors, especially the Maoists, and concern over developments in the Tarai has led China to a more public role in recent times.

The United Nations Mission in Nepal (UNMIN) has done a competent job of arms management and supervision. But it has drawn criticism for the mismatch between its limited mandate and high visibility. The mission has a large political and civil affairs team based in regional headquarters, but their reports are not made public. The non-transparent functioning of the UN, coupled with efforts to over step its mandate, extend its tenure, and intercede as a mediator in the Tarai conflict has created suspicion about its intentions. India and UNMIN share a tense relationship, and New Delhi would be happy to see the mission wrap up and leave when its tenure ends on 23 July.

 

As Nepal finally heads towards elections on April 10, there is enthusiasm on the ground. But challenges remain. For one, everyone expects a drastic escalation of violence as polls draw closer. The royalists have no incentives in allowing elections, and as they get increasingly desperate, will look for avenues to create chaos. Some speculate on the possibility of a high profile assassination. Even if they cannot prevent elections, they would like to create conditions which allow for questioning the legitimacy of the polls.

The Madhesi extremists can create enough fear to prevent a high turnout. The Maoists have stepped up attacks on competitors and may increasingly resort to intimidation and force. There is a possibility that former rebels will not do well, especially in the absence of a left alliance. But that need not, as some fear, automatically result in Maoists abandoning the process. They are locked in and know that even as the third largest party, they will have a decisive role in a fragmented polity.

There have been no elections for nine years during which the polity has completely changed. There is an entire generation of new voters. Identity consciousness has emerged in a strong way. All of this means unpredictable electoral results, adding an element of uncertainty to the peace process. What will happen if large-scale violence accompanies the poll process, with a low turnout, leading to questions about legitimacy? Will it be possible to abolish the monarchy if the NC, conservative Madhesi groups and royalists win half the seats?

How will the international community react if the UML and the Maoists get together to form a left-wing alliance? Will it strengthen the hands of the radicals if Madhesi parties, in the absence of any unity, fail to do well? Will the palace play up differences among the groups and engineer instability? Will the army accept clauses that force it to be more accountable to the government, more inclusive of the country’s population, and integrate at least a section of Maoist soldiers?

Despite the uncertainty and challenges, a naya Nepal is within grasp. Southasia’s oldest nation-state is about to embark on the process of drafting the region’s newest constitution. There will be fierce debates on a range of issues – from the shape of federalism to the nature of affirmative action, from the judiciary to whether the country should adopt a presidential or parliamentary system. But if all goes well, these debates will take place inside a constituent assembly, elected for the first time by a sovereign people on 10 April 2008.