By Sanjay Upadhya
June 27, 2006
Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala probably did not return home expecting an extended convalescence after his surgery at a Bangkok hospital. The plethora of problems that have accumulated on the ground in his absence will not let him put his feet up as much as he might want to.
The Maoists’ – often contradictory -- interpretation of the June 16 eight-point accord, the discord within the Seven Party Alliance (SPA) over certain provisions of the deal, and differences within Koirala’s Nepali Congress on the prime minister’s support of a ceremonial monarchy are illustrative of the multiple layers of the challenges the much-vaunted peace process confronts.
Maoist leader Prachanda and chief ideologue Dr. Baburam Bhattarai are back in Kathmandu after concluding a tour of their base areas to sell the accord to the rank and file. In the run-up to the next “summit”, they have held preliminary talks with senior SPA leaders, who concluded that the eight-point accord was a “mistake” after signing it.
The comments of some SPA leaders, such as Unified Marxist Leninist (UML) general secretary Madhav Kumar Nepal, underscore the depths of the differences between the rebels and the mainstream parties. The Maoists’ call for the dissolution of the House of Representatives, the imperative of ensuring fair representation on the panel drafting the interim constitution, the exact status of the Maoists’ weapons before they can be inducted in a new interim government, among other things, would have to be addressed directly during a second “summit”.
More importantly, Prime Minister Koirala needs to take full charge of the SPA side of the process. Consider how top government ministers contradicted one another in responding to the Nepal Army’s rebuttal of the invective Prachanda spewed at the post-summit news conference. With such clumsiness, you certainly do not need the palace to scuttle the peace process.
The Maoists’ primacy over the process cannot obscure serious questions relating to their credibility as a partner. This is something firmly tied to the enigma that Prachanda still remains. Over the years, his perceived eloquence in expounding ideology has been useful in perpetuating the ambiguity the rebels used to build and wreck alliance among and within rival power centers.
Prachanda’s emergence at the news conference has shifted the parameters of the debate. Can his reputation for tolerating no dissent within his organization weld into the imperative of free and open deliberations the multiparty system – at least the SPA version of it -- presupposes?
Would Prachanda’s abiding faith in the Nepalese people’s ultimate rejection of the monarchy in the constituent assembly elections really make him adhere to an opposite popular verdict as he has pledged? Or is the rebel leader’s eagerness to discard “parliamentary republicanism” in favor of a more locally relevant model merely the first draft of an opt-out clause?
Broadly speaking, is peace the real agenda of the entire rebel organization? After all, the Maoists took up arms against both the parliamentary system and the monarchy in 1996 vowing to establish a “people's republic.” Has the wisdom of allying with one foe to defeat the other been widely accepted in the ranks as a tactic or the logical culmination of the insurgency? In the latter case, can the foot soldiers adapt to competitive mainstream politics discarding the Great Helmsman’s adage that power grows out of the barrel of the gun?
Admittedly, the Maoists exhibited remarkable restraint during their massive rally in the capital recently. Many are tempted to believe that the rebels have sincerely chosen the path of pragmatic politics. However, is one example of moderation sufficient to erase the marauding of a decade?
The silence of military strategist Ram Bahadur Thapa “Badal” is becoming deafening by the day. Nanda Kishor Pun “Pasang”, another influential rebel commander, too, is said to be unhappy with the latest turn of events. Matrika Yadav, the most prominent Maoist leader from the Terai, has threatened to boycott the constituent assembly polls unless madhesis get citizenship certificates.
The economic dimensions of the Maoist ostensible transformation are murkier. Can Prachanda’s oft-repeated basic opposition to economic liberalization allow enough room for the encouragement of industry, creation of jobs and growth of for-profit enterprise.
If Prachanda’s sole substantive program consists of exploiting Yarchagumba, that rare fungus found only in the Himalayas and prized in traditional Chinese medicine as an aphrodisiac, then Finance Minister Ram Sharan Mahat should immediately begin private session in Economics 101 with the rebel leader. The imponderable, of course, is Prachanda’s willingness to listen.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Monday, June 19, 2006
Nepal: Euphoria As An Indispensable Energizer
By Sanjay Upadhya
June 19, 2006
Superlatives are being thrown around with sheer simplicity, drowning out deep skepticism from within the Seven Party Alliance (SPA). For now, supreme relief reigns over ordinary people yearning for peace. This rapture need not be tempered with realism because the risks are implicit in the 8-point accord that emerged from last week’s “summit” between Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala and Maoist supremo Prachanda.
If the precariousness of the process failed to stand in the way of the signatories, then peace surely must be an idea whose time has come. The Maoists’ participation in the creation of an interim charter and government would finally allow them to shape the future they have been fighting for with such ferocity. More important, it offers an opportunity to bind them firmly to success or failure.
Prime Minister Koirala opened the campaign by stating that his Nepali Congress would go into the constituent assembly elections with an agenda of a ceremonial monarchy. It remains to be seen whether Koirala’s assertion is a reflection of his party’s reading of political realities. The anti-monarchy camp in the Nepali Congress has grown in size and stridency. Whether this group would be able to mount a serious internal challenge to Koirala’s platform would depend in large part on the Maoists.
For now, the premier has been fortified by Prachanda’s willingness to accept Koirala’s remark within the rubric of free speech. The quid pro quo is hard to miss: The crafty Maoist chief extracted a major concession from the prime minister in not having to renounce violence or pledge decommissioning of weapons.
Prachanda’s dominance over the post-“summit” news conference could not shield the stretch marks the Maoists’ famed flexibility has left. Having begun the “People’s War” against both the monarchy and the parliamentary system, Prachanda will have to educate his cadres in the objective realities dictating the alliance with one. It would be naïve, however, to equate the opaqueness of internal Maoist deliberations with inactivity. The rebel leadership’s nationwide tour can be expected to produce some insights into their political acclimatization.
The seniority and stature of the individuals representing the Maoists in an interim government might provide a good measure of their commitment to this process. Lightweights, after all, would be easier to manipulate for posturing and malign and marginalize if things don’t go the Maoist way. For now though, the Maoists recognize more than anyone else that the transparency with which the organization transform itself from a demolition crew into builders of democracy would shape their international legitimacy.
The drafters of the interim statute, meanwhile, can proceed from a consensus on keeping the palace in an entirely titular posture. In retrospect, the chairman of the panel that wrote the current constitution made a monumental blunder by dismissing issues relating to language, ethnicity and gender as irrelevant to the wider imperative of consolidating multiparty democracy. Laxman Aryal, the chief drafter of the interim statute, who was a member of the 1990 panel, would probably not be able to review the transcripts of each of those 16-year-old sessions. As the foremost critic of the successive instances of violations of the constitution – by all parties – he must have accumulated enough perspective.
Much of the groundwork has been laid by the House of Representatives’ proclamation. Since the people are mindful of the platitudes permeating all legal provisions and policy positions since the first dawn of democracy in 1951, the panelists’ real challenge is to inject enough credibility.
Limits To Change
By refusing to disturb the Nepal Army in the security shakeup, Prime Minister Koirala has recognized the limits to change. Speculation that Koirala acted primarily under pressure from the Americans fits into the institutional relationship Washington has been building with the Nepalese military in recent years. How far Prachanda can go on pressing the “de-feudalization” of the military without exposing himself to demands on disarmament is unclear.
Despite rumblings in the Unified Marxist Leninists (UML) and other constituents in the SPA, along with periodic manifestations of public ire on the streets, the palace can probably afford to sit back and let events take their course. For now, the future of the monarchy would be inextricably linked to the clarity with which the SPA and the Maoists can articulate their vision of an alternative. The SPA and the Maoists have been in the game too long not to recognize that blaming King Gyanendra for all of Nepal’s ills since the creation of the state would lose its potency. The temptation to politically eviscerate the monarchy would sooner or later have to be juxtaposed with the imperative to ensuring its ability to discharge the normal responsibilities of a head of state.
Based on his outlook, temperament and background, King Gyanendra might have his own ideas about the future of the nation and the institution. The SPA and the Maoists both succeeded in portraying the royal takeover as a power grab, assisted no doubt by the conduct of certain elements of the royal regime. The fact that the palace could not prevail in advocating the imperative of protecting a small nation wedged between the two Asian giants does not detract from the realities of history and geography. The monarchy, a product of specific Nepalese realities, can be expected to exhibit a paternalistic stake in statecraft. On the other hand, a republic – resulting either from the constituent assembly elections or a decision by the monarch not to accept an unfeasible role – could open up another political front. A system of proportional representation, which is being demanded from different quarters for different reasons, would emphasize the implications of such a development even among those tempted to write off the palace as a political force.
The Near Abroad
Despite the deep bruises it received, India has succeeded in reinforcing its role as the principal external stakeholder in Nepal. Although Prime Minister Manmohan Singh’s government strongly criticized the royal takeover, the divisions New Delhi exposed while articulating and advancing its policy on Nepal reflected the fragmentation of the Indian polity.
Throughout King Gyanendra’s direct rule, the Hindu nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) was reluctant to support the monarchy because of obvious political compulsions. The BJP’s concern over the secularization of the Nepalese state has allowed the party to back the retention of a constitutional monarchy. However, the organization was less restrained in its criticism of the leeway Prime Minister Singh offered his allies on the left to drive policy on Nepal.
All this underscores the reality that the current turn of events owes much to the quirks of Indian politics. The Indian left could not have led the initiative to forge the SPA-Maoist accord had it not held the key to the survival of the Singh coalition. Doubtless, the radicalization of the Nepali Congress and Nepali Congress (Democratic) in the wake of the royal takeover facilitated the process. The ambivalence of the Indian government was reflected in carefully calibrated leaks in the media.
Over time, the left’s self-interest in moderating and subsequently mainstreaming the Nepalese Maoists – thereby eroding their Indian counterparts’ ability to lay siege to the communist spectrum – must have impressed the Singh government. In the past, Prachanda has been episodically tentative in disowning anything but ideological affinity to Indian Maoists. The prevention of a Maoist takeover of Nepal would bolster the Indian government’s ability to treat the Naxals as an internal security problem. The left channel was worth pursuing, but certainly not to the exclusion of everything else.
The fact that Prime Minister Singh chose to send as his emissary Karan Singh – the scion of the royal family of Kashmir and related to the Nepalese monarch by marriage –underscored his Congress party’s readiness to engage with the palace as a stabilizing force. The Nepalese monarchy’s family and social ties with politically active members of former princely families could heal the political estrangement between New Delhi and Kathmandu.
Although much attention has been focused on the New Delhi-Washington-London consensus on Nepalese democracy, Indian mediation in the kingdom could not have come without close consultations with China. It would be instructive to note that, in the aftermath of the 1990 change, Chinese leaders were quite candid in their acknowledgement of Nepal’s traditional ties with India. Such sentiments were heard less and less amid the flight of the Karmapa Lama to India, ostensibly via Nepal, the resurgence of the pro-Tibetan independence campaign in the kingdom, the ascendancy of the “containment” camp in the United States, along with the intensification of the Maoist insurgency.
The nature of specific arrangements that might have encouraged Beijing to revert to its recognition of Indian role in Nepal can be expected to become clearer in the days and weeks ahead. The Nepalese people certainly deserve an extended phase of euphoria, especially considering the roughness of the road ahead.
June 19, 2006
Superlatives are being thrown around with sheer simplicity, drowning out deep skepticism from within the Seven Party Alliance (SPA). For now, supreme relief reigns over ordinary people yearning for peace. This rapture need not be tempered with realism because the risks are implicit in the 8-point accord that emerged from last week’s “summit” between Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala and Maoist supremo Prachanda.
If the precariousness of the process failed to stand in the way of the signatories, then peace surely must be an idea whose time has come. The Maoists’ participation in the creation of an interim charter and government would finally allow them to shape the future they have been fighting for with such ferocity. More important, it offers an opportunity to bind them firmly to success or failure.
Prime Minister Koirala opened the campaign by stating that his Nepali Congress would go into the constituent assembly elections with an agenda of a ceremonial monarchy. It remains to be seen whether Koirala’s assertion is a reflection of his party’s reading of political realities. The anti-monarchy camp in the Nepali Congress has grown in size and stridency. Whether this group would be able to mount a serious internal challenge to Koirala’s platform would depend in large part on the Maoists.
For now, the premier has been fortified by Prachanda’s willingness to accept Koirala’s remark within the rubric of free speech. The quid pro quo is hard to miss: The crafty Maoist chief extracted a major concession from the prime minister in not having to renounce violence or pledge decommissioning of weapons.
Prachanda’s dominance over the post-“summit” news conference could not shield the stretch marks the Maoists’ famed flexibility has left. Having begun the “People’s War” against both the monarchy and the parliamentary system, Prachanda will have to educate his cadres in the objective realities dictating the alliance with one. It would be naïve, however, to equate the opaqueness of internal Maoist deliberations with inactivity. The rebel leadership’s nationwide tour can be expected to produce some insights into their political acclimatization.
The seniority and stature of the individuals representing the Maoists in an interim government might provide a good measure of their commitment to this process. Lightweights, after all, would be easier to manipulate for posturing and malign and marginalize if things don’t go the Maoist way. For now though, the Maoists recognize more than anyone else that the transparency with which the organization transform itself from a demolition crew into builders of democracy would shape their international legitimacy.
The drafters of the interim statute, meanwhile, can proceed from a consensus on keeping the palace in an entirely titular posture. In retrospect, the chairman of the panel that wrote the current constitution made a monumental blunder by dismissing issues relating to language, ethnicity and gender as irrelevant to the wider imperative of consolidating multiparty democracy. Laxman Aryal, the chief drafter of the interim statute, who was a member of the 1990 panel, would probably not be able to review the transcripts of each of those 16-year-old sessions. As the foremost critic of the successive instances of violations of the constitution – by all parties – he must have accumulated enough perspective.
Much of the groundwork has been laid by the House of Representatives’ proclamation. Since the people are mindful of the platitudes permeating all legal provisions and policy positions since the first dawn of democracy in 1951, the panelists’ real challenge is to inject enough credibility.
Limits To Change
By refusing to disturb the Nepal Army in the security shakeup, Prime Minister Koirala has recognized the limits to change. Speculation that Koirala acted primarily under pressure from the Americans fits into the institutional relationship Washington has been building with the Nepalese military in recent years. How far Prachanda can go on pressing the “de-feudalization” of the military without exposing himself to demands on disarmament is unclear.
Despite rumblings in the Unified Marxist Leninists (UML) and other constituents in the SPA, along with periodic manifestations of public ire on the streets, the palace can probably afford to sit back and let events take their course. For now, the future of the monarchy would be inextricably linked to the clarity with which the SPA and the Maoists can articulate their vision of an alternative. The SPA and the Maoists have been in the game too long not to recognize that blaming King Gyanendra for all of Nepal’s ills since the creation of the state would lose its potency. The temptation to politically eviscerate the monarchy would sooner or later have to be juxtaposed with the imperative to ensuring its ability to discharge the normal responsibilities of a head of state.
Based on his outlook, temperament and background, King Gyanendra might have his own ideas about the future of the nation and the institution. The SPA and the Maoists both succeeded in portraying the royal takeover as a power grab, assisted no doubt by the conduct of certain elements of the royal regime. The fact that the palace could not prevail in advocating the imperative of protecting a small nation wedged between the two Asian giants does not detract from the realities of history and geography. The monarchy, a product of specific Nepalese realities, can be expected to exhibit a paternalistic stake in statecraft. On the other hand, a republic – resulting either from the constituent assembly elections or a decision by the monarch not to accept an unfeasible role – could open up another political front. A system of proportional representation, which is being demanded from different quarters for different reasons, would emphasize the implications of such a development even among those tempted to write off the palace as a political force.
The Near Abroad
Despite the deep bruises it received, India has succeeded in reinforcing its role as the principal external stakeholder in Nepal. Although Prime Minister Manmohan Singh’s government strongly criticized the royal takeover, the divisions New Delhi exposed while articulating and advancing its policy on Nepal reflected the fragmentation of the Indian polity.
Throughout King Gyanendra’s direct rule, the Hindu nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) was reluctant to support the monarchy because of obvious political compulsions. The BJP’s concern over the secularization of the Nepalese state has allowed the party to back the retention of a constitutional monarchy. However, the organization was less restrained in its criticism of the leeway Prime Minister Singh offered his allies on the left to drive policy on Nepal.
All this underscores the reality that the current turn of events owes much to the quirks of Indian politics. The Indian left could not have led the initiative to forge the SPA-Maoist accord had it not held the key to the survival of the Singh coalition. Doubtless, the radicalization of the Nepali Congress and Nepali Congress (Democratic) in the wake of the royal takeover facilitated the process. The ambivalence of the Indian government was reflected in carefully calibrated leaks in the media.
Over time, the left’s self-interest in moderating and subsequently mainstreaming the Nepalese Maoists – thereby eroding their Indian counterparts’ ability to lay siege to the communist spectrum – must have impressed the Singh government. In the past, Prachanda has been episodically tentative in disowning anything but ideological affinity to Indian Maoists. The prevention of a Maoist takeover of Nepal would bolster the Indian government’s ability to treat the Naxals as an internal security problem. The left channel was worth pursuing, but certainly not to the exclusion of everything else.
The fact that Prime Minister Singh chose to send as his emissary Karan Singh – the scion of the royal family of Kashmir and related to the Nepalese monarch by marriage –underscored his Congress party’s readiness to engage with the palace as a stabilizing force. The Nepalese monarchy’s family and social ties with politically active members of former princely families could heal the political estrangement between New Delhi and Kathmandu.
Although much attention has been focused on the New Delhi-Washington-London consensus on Nepalese democracy, Indian mediation in the kingdom could not have come without close consultations with China. It would be instructive to note that, in the aftermath of the 1990 change, Chinese leaders were quite candid in their acknowledgement of Nepal’s traditional ties with India. Such sentiments were heard less and less amid the flight of the Karmapa Lama to India, ostensibly via Nepal, the resurgence of the pro-Tibetan independence campaign in the kingdom, the ascendancy of the “containment” camp in the United States, along with the intensification of the Maoist insurgency.
The nature of specific arrangements that might have encouraged Beijing to revert to its recognition of Indian role in Nepal can be expected to become clearer in the days and weeks ahead. The Nepalese people certainly deserve an extended phase of euphoria, especially considering the roughness of the road ahead.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Nepal: Premier’s Pragmatism Or Preemption?
By Sanjay Upadhya
June 15, 2006
The steady stretches of the Nepalese plains have spurred Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala accentuate the virtues of the monarchy. Addressing workers of his Nepali Congress party in his hometown of Biratnagar, Koirala said King Gyanendra should be given a ceremonial role in order for the country to enjoy peace and stability. “Denial of space to all players,” the premier cautioned, “would lead to frustration and to even revolt.”
Media coverage of Koirala’s comments left the precise context unclear. Did the premier extend unconditional support for a “ceremonial monarchy”, his contribution to the Nepalese political lexicon? Or did Koirala favor the king’s continued ceremonial role in the run-up to constituent assembly elections, which would ultimately determine the fate of the institution?
Evidently, such hair-splitting did not matter. Irate students took out protests against the premier’s remarks. Maoist supremo Prachanda refused to accept the concept of “ceremonial monarchy” as anything but an oxymoron. Koirala’s assertion, however, did not dissuade the Maoists from holding a second session of peace talks with the government. Within the ruling Seven Party Alliance (SPA), the mood is firmly in favor of a democratic republic. Yet the premier’s remarks did not contain enough firepower to demolish the government.
Why did Koirala make those comments? During his recent visit to India, political prudence prevented his hosts from offering any overt expression of support for the monarchy. Even the opposition Bharatiya Janata Party, long considered close to the palace, seemed to acknowledge the supremacy of the Nepalese people’s right to choose their polity. (The party seemed more miffed by Koirala’s haste in making Nepal a secular state.) However, Indian media coverage of Koirala’s visit clearly signaled his hosts’ desire to see the retention of a titular monarchy.
That stood in sharp contrast to the series of events Koirala presided over during preceding weeks. In its effort to democratize the state, the reinstated House of Representatives almost exclusively focused on emasculating the monarchy. Legislators approved a proclamation that imposed sweeping curbs on the king's powers, ending his control over the army, forcing him to pay taxes and leaving him open to questions in parliament and the courts. Under subsequent guidelines, the monarch will no longer open or end parliamentary sessions or announce government policy.
By taming the monarch to the extent of depriving him of a role played by the most titular of heads of state, the SPA may have endeared itself to the Maoist rebels. Those envisaging a peaceful and stable transformation of the Nepalese state had little reason to rejoice.
Could Koirala’s pro-monarchy sentiments be a reflection of his perceptions of India’s thinking? Perhaps. But you cannot accuse the man of inconsistency. He has expressed pro-monarchy sympathies during more trying times in the past. During the height of the Nepali Congress debate last year over whether to delete the party’s traditional commitment to constitutional monarchy from its statute, Koirala appeared at times to lean heavily toward a republic. In private conversations, though, he was known to have described his anti-monarchy tirades as a pressure tactic against the king. Koirala urged more radical members of the party to consider the vacuum the monarchy’s departure would create in a geopolitically sensitive nation.
At one such gathering, Koirala described Narahari Acharya and Gagan Thapa – the two preeminent republicans in the Nepali Congress – as agents of the palace. After the Nepali Congress dropped the reference to constitutional monarchy, Koirala continued to criticize the king’s “autocratic” tendencies in public, all the while keeping open the possibility of a ceremonial monarchy.
After King Gyanendra appointed him premier in April, Koirala overruled his SPA colleagues and went to the palace to take the oath. By retaining the defense portfolio and keeping the home ministry with his Nepali Congress, among other things, critics insist, Koirala is trying to “save” the monarchy against the “spirit” of the democracy movement.
As the custodian of his own political dynasty, Koirala may have baffled many by his defense of the monarchy, especially during its least popular phase. His stand, moreover, would seem out of step with his party’s record. The Nepali Congress, after all, tried to assassinate Kings Mahendra and Birendra, an audacity magnified by the fact that even the Maoist rebels never attempted to physically harm the monarch they are fighting to overthrow.
Maybe Koirala really had the Maoists in mind. The SPA is vexed by the endless conditions the rebels have been putting forth. By extending an olive branch to the palace, Koirala could be alerting the Maoists to the perils of insatiability.
In the end, the anti-Koirala protests, too, serve a purpose. Behind the SPA-Maoist bonhomie lurks some anxiety in the mainstream parties that the palace might strike a separate deal with the rebels. Through the protests, the SPA could be sending a message to the palace.
Regardless of whether Koirala’s comments were a mark of pragmatism or a mode of preemption, they underscore the reality that the palace remains a major player during these precarious times.
June 15, 2006
The steady stretches of the Nepalese plains have spurred Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala accentuate the virtues of the monarchy. Addressing workers of his Nepali Congress party in his hometown of Biratnagar, Koirala said King Gyanendra should be given a ceremonial role in order for the country to enjoy peace and stability. “Denial of space to all players,” the premier cautioned, “would lead to frustration and to even revolt.”
Media coverage of Koirala’s comments left the precise context unclear. Did the premier extend unconditional support for a “ceremonial monarchy”, his contribution to the Nepalese political lexicon? Or did Koirala favor the king’s continued ceremonial role in the run-up to constituent assembly elections, which would ultimately determine the fate of the institution?
Evidently, such hair-splitting did not matter. Irate students took out protests against the premier’s remarks. Maoist supremo Prachanda refused to accept the concept of “ceremonial monarchy” as anything but an oxymoron. Koirala’s assertion, however, did not dissuade the Maoists from holding a second session of peace talks with the government. Within the ruling Seven Party Alliance (SPA), the mood is firmly in favor of a democratic republic. Yet the premier’s remarks did not contain enough firepower to demolish the government.
Why did Koirala make those comments? During his recent visit to India, political prudence prevented his hosts from offering any overt expression of support for the monarchy. Even the opposition Bharatiya Janata Party, long considered close to the palace, seemed to acknowledge the supremacy of the Nepalese people’s right to choose their polity. (The party seemed more miffed by Koirala’s haste in making Nepal a secular state.) However, Indian media coverage of Koirala’s visit clearly signaled his hosts’ desire to see the retention of a titular monarchy.
That stood in sharp contrast to the series of events Koirala presided over during preceding weeks. In its effort to democratize the state, the reinstated House of Representatives almost exclusively focused on emasculating the monarchy. Legislators approved a proclamation that imposed sweeping curbs on the king's powers, ending his control over the army, forcing him to pay taxes and leaving him open to questions in parliament and the courts. Under subsequent guidelines, the monarch will no longer open or end parliamentary sessions or announce government policy.
By taming the monarch to the extent of depriving him of a role played by the most titular of heads of state, the SPA may have endeared itself to the Maoist rebels. Those envisaging a peaceful and stable transformation of the Nepalese state had little reason to rejoice.
Could Koirala’s pro-monarchy sentiments be a reflection of his perceptions of India’s thinking? Perhaps. But you cannot accuse the man of inconsistency. He has expressed pro-monarchy sympathies during more trying times in the past. During the height of the Nepali Congress debate last year over whether to delete the party’s traditional commitment to constitutional monarchy from its statute, Koirala appeared at times to lean heavily toward a republic. In private conversations, though, he was known to have described his anti-monarchy tirades as a pressure tactic against the king. Koirala urged more radical members of the party to consider the vacuum the monarchy’s departure would create in a geopolitically sensitive nation.
At one such gathering, Koirala described Narahari Acharya and Gagan Thapa – the two preeminent republicans in the Nepali Congress – as agents of the palace. After the Nepali Congress dropped the reference to constitutional monarchy, Koirala continued to criticize the king’s “autocratic” tendencies in public, all the while keeping open the possibility of a ceremonial monarchy.
After King Gyanendra appointed him premier in April, Koirala overruled his SPA colleagues and went to the palace to take the oath. By retaining the defense portfolio and keeping the home ministry with his Nepali Congress, among other things, critics insist, Koirala is trying to “save” the monarchy against the “spirit” of the democracy movement.
As the custodian of his own political dynasty, Koirala may have baffled many by his defense of the monarchy, especially during its least popular phase. His stand, moreover, would seem out of step with his party’s record. The Nepali Congress, after all, tried to assassinate Kings Mahendra and Birendra, an audacity magnified by the fact that even the Maoist rebels never attempted to physically harm the monarch they are fighting to overthrow.
Maybe Koirala really had the Maoists in mind. The SPA is vexed by the endless conditions the rebels have been putting forth. By extending an olive branch to the palace, Koirala could be alerting the Maoists to the perils of insatiability.
In the end, the anti-Koirala protests, too, serve a purpose. Behind the SPA-Maoist bonhomie lurks some anxiety in the mainstream parties that the palace might strike a separate deal with the rebels. Through the protests, the SPA could be sending a message to the palace.
Regardless of whether Koirala’s comments were a mark of pragmatism or a mode of preemption, they underscore the reality that the palace remains a major player during these precarious times.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Nepal: Perpetual Legislature And Political Legitimacy
By Sanjay Upadhya
June 7, 2006
With the monarch and the upper chamber out of parliament’s perimeter, Nepal is cruising on a legislative course with a third of the mass the current constitution contemplates.
Compare this with the much-maligned direct rule of King Gyanendra, when two-thirds of the legislative aggregation was alive. It’s a different matter that nobody thought of convening the upper house while the speaker of the dissolved lower chamber was busy attending international conferences in his official capacity.
But who is concerned about the constitution? Members of the reinstated House of Representatives (HoR), having monopolized the assembly, are operating on an open-ended tenure. In their frenzied fealty to the “historic mandate” of the April Uprising, MPs
evidently feel comfortable with stretching their interpretation of popular aspirations and expanding their job description accordingly.
To be sure, much of what has passed for legislative deliberation over the last five weeks boils down to vendetta. But, then, expecting the newly empowered political class to desist from vengeance would be tantamount to rejecting basic human nature. The amalgamation of incarceration and humiliation the Seven Party Alliance (SPA) endured during the palace’s 15-month direct rule could not have been conducive to conciliation.
In the passions of the moment, it is easy to miss the bigger picture. The Nepali Congress and the Unified Marxist-Leninists (UML), as the principal drafters of the 1990 constitution, virtually claimed ownership of the subsequent 12-year political process. The sense of finality that set in from the outset impelled some to insist that the constitution did not need to be amended for another 30 years. When King Gyanendra began exercising his constitutional responsibilities in forms unpalatable to the political parties, governance assumed an exclusive political content.
The pendulum has swung in the other direction with the attendant kinetic energy. Having succeeded in casting the monarchy as the principal obstacle to “total democracy” – a convenient euphemism for their predominance – SPA leaders have temporarily obscured their own role in precipitating the return of royal assertiveness.
The emasculation of the monarchy, in the SPA’s view, is the principal precondition of the moment. The wider political climate undoubtedly favors that interpretation, as the virtual silence emanating from the royalist parties/factions in the legislature underscores.
Through the “landmark” HoR proclamation, the SPA has sought to tame the palace in the run-up to the constituent assembly elections, which would determine the future of the monarchy. The SPA and its opponents both recognize that the legality of current actions can be fought over another day. For now, the focus is on ensuring the supremacy of a parliament on life support. For how long?
SPA leaders insist that the legislature must remain active until an alternative is found. The Maoists want the HoR and the government dissolved in favor of a national conference and interim government. Despite his rhetoric, Maoist supremo Prachanda recognizes that the SPA is carefully weighing its options.
Among individual constituent parties and factions within, choosing between the Maoists and the monarchists requires careful deliberation and an abundance of time. Having split the premiership and speakership between them, the Nepali Congress and the UML have consented to the existence of the breakaway Nepali Congress (Democratic) as an independent entity.
Mindful of the Maoists’ opposition and the political loss to the Nepali Congress, Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala’s government has rejected the UML’s demand for the restoration of the local bodies. While announcing that civil servants would run those bodies, the government signaled its tentativeness by adding the “for the time being” proviso.
In seeking to bolster their public persona, legislators have overreached to address a “final status” issue like turning Nepal into a secular state. The argument that Nepal’s Hindu identity was an appendage of active monarchy and therefore deserving of a democratic makeover has been rubbished by avowed critics of the king. Legitimacy acquires the greatest slipperiness where sincerity looks like smugness.
It took 15 months for King Gyanendra’s roadmap to be discredited. The SPA can consider its democratic character a cushion against such a swift and sharp reversal of perceptions. Their principal claim to the moral high ground – that errant politicians are always ready to face the wrath of the people – is already sounding hackneyed. And, lest we forget, we still have to figure out the kind of constituencies the assembly is going to represent.
There is a more immediate operational disadvantage for the SPA. In the spring of 1990, the parties had reclaimed power after three-decades of partyless direct rule by the palace. The 15-month interregnum this time – considering that the government King Gyanendra ousted on Feb. 1, 2005 before assuming direct control contained two of the three principal SPA constituents – has considerably constricted the alliance’s comfort zone.
The ideology-vs.-personality clashes within parties and their factions, the assertion of power by non-political actors, representational resentments that led to the squandering of political capital and the other factors that created an anguished electorate are all capable of returning to the forefront of the national consciousness – and with a vengeance.
June 7, 2006
With the monarch and the upper chamber out of parliament’s perimeter, Nepal is cruising on a legislative course with a third of the mass the current constitution contemplates.
Compare this with the much-maligned direct rule of King Gyanendra, when two-thirds of the legislative aggregation was alive. It’s a different matter that nobody thought of convening the upper house while the speaker of the dissolved lower chamber was busy attending international conferences in his official capacity.
But who is concerned about the constitution? Members of the reinstated House of Representatives (HoR), having monopolized the assembly, are operating on an open-ended tenure. In their frenzied fealty to the “historic mandate” of the April Uprising, MPs
evidently feel comfortable with stretching their interpretation of popular aspirations and expanding their job description accordingly.
To be sure, much of what has passed for legislative deliberation over the last five weeks boils down to vendetta. But, then, expecting the newly empowered political class to desist from vengeance would be tantamount to rejecting basic human nature. The amalgamation of incarceration and humiliation the Seven Party Alliance (SPA) endured during the palace’s 15-month direct rule could not have been conducive to conciliation.
In the passions of the moment, it is easy to miss the bigger picture. The Nepali Congress and the Unified Marxist-Leninists (UML), as the principal drafters of the 1990 constitution, virtually claimed ownership of the subsequent 12-year political process. The sense of finality that set in from the outset impelled some to insist that the constitution did not need to be amended for another 30 years. When King Gyanendra began exercising his constitutional responsibilities in forms unpalatable to the political parties, governance assumed an exclusive political content.
The pendulum has swung in the other direction with the attendant kinetic energy. Having succeeded in casting the monarchy as the principal obstacle to “total democracy” – a convenient euphemism for their predominance – SPA leaders have temporarily obscured their own role in precipitating the return of royal assertiveness.
The emasculation of the monarchy, in the SPA’s view, is the principal precondition of the moment. The wider political climate undoubtedly favors that interpretation, as the virtual silence emanating from the royalist parties/factions in the legislature underscores.
Through the “landmark” HoR proclamation, the SPA has sought to tame the palace in the run-up to the constituent assembly elections, which would determine the future of the monarchy. The SPA and its opponents both recognize that the legality of current actions can be fought over another day. For now, the focus is on ensuring the supremacy of a parliament on life support. For how long?
SPA leaders insist that the legislature must remain active until an alternative is found. The Maoists want the HoR and the government dissolved in favor of a national conference and interim government. Despite his rhetoric, Maoist supremo Prachanda recognizes that the SPA is carefully weighing its options.
Among individual constituent parties and factions within, choosing between the Maoists and the monarchists requires careful deliberation and an abundance of time. Having split the premiership and speakership between them, the Nepali Congress and the UML have consented to the existence of the breakaway Nepali Congress (Democratic) as an independent entity.
Mindful of the Maoists’ opposition and the political loss to the Nepali Congress, Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala’s government has rejected the UML’s demand for the restoration of the local bodies. While announcing that civil servants would run those bodies, the government signaled its tentativeness by adding the “for the time being” proviso.
In seeking to bolster their public persona, legislators have overreached to address a “final status” issue like turning Nepal into a secular state. The argument that Nepal’s Hindu identity was an appendage of active monarchy and therefore deserving of a democratic makeover has been rubbished by avowed critics of the king. Legitimacy acquires the greatest slipperiness where sincerity looks like smugness.
It took 15 months for King Gyanendra’s roadmap to be discredited. The SPA can consider its democratic character a cushion against such a swift and sharp reversal of perceptions. Their principal claim to the moral high ground – that errant politicians are always ready to face the wrath of the people – is already sounding hackneyed. And, lest we forget, we still have to figure out the kind of constituencies the assembly is going to represent.
There is a more immediate operational disadvantage for the SPA. In the spring of 1990, the parties had reclaimed power after three-decades of partyless direct rule by the palace. The 15-month interregnum this time – considering that the government King Gyanendra ousted on Feb. 1, 2005 before assuming direct control contained two of the three principal SPA constituents – has considerably constricted the alliance’s comfort zone.
The ideology-vs.-personality clashes within parties and their factions, the assertion of power by non-political actors, representational resentments that led to the squandering of political capital and the other factors that created an anguished electorate are all capable of returning to the forefront of the national consciousness – and with a vengeance.
Monday, June 05, 2006
Troubling Moves On The South Asian Chessboard
By Sanjay Upadhya
August 29, 2005
The Bush administration’s decision last month to welcome India to the “nuclear club” – weeks after the two governments signed a 10-year defense cooperation agreement—has prompted contrasting reactions from two principal quarters in Asia.
Pakistan’s Foreign Ministry expressed deep concern that the two developments would destabilize the strategic balance in South Asia.
Asserting that it had conveyed its concerns to Washington, Islamabad reiterated its commitment to maintaining a credible deterrent in both conventional and non-conventional weapon systems to rectify any imbalance.
China, on the other hand, has been rather muted in its official comments. A Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesman said: “[T]he international community has reached a consensus on relevant nuclear issues. We hope the relevant cooperation between U.S. and India will be conducive to safeguarding the regional peace and stability in Asia”.
The Chinese media, which hardly veers from the official viewpoint, has been more candid on a central theme: the U.S. strategy to contain China. The prevailing view in Beijing is that the U.S. perceives India as a counter-balancing force to a ‘rising’ China and, therefore, feels the need to draw India into its fold. Another U.S. aim, Chinese analysts and media commentators point out, is to use the influential pro-American lobby within India to affect Sino-Indian relations.
Predictably, Washington and New Delhi prefer to shrug off such interpretations. There is enough evidence in the public domain, however, suggesting that a new American containment policy has been in the works for some years, particularly from neoconservative quarters.
Although China may not be where the Soviet Union was once was in terms of American threat perceptions, the Asian giant is clearly dominating public discourse in a unique way. Toward the end of the 1990s, economics had begun sidelining the democracy and human rights issues that traditionally dominated the U.S. media coverage since the establishment of the People’s Republic in 1949.
In the years after the Tiananmen Square massacre in 1989, corporate America began investing too heavily in the Chinese economic miracle to want the Communist Party dethroned. The ideals of freedom and liberty amounted to little on corporate balance sheets. The American media, which increasingly came under the ownership of many of these same U.S. corporate behemoths during this period, were understandably reluctant to portray the Chinese regime in a poor light.
President Bill Clinton, who came into office criticizing his Republican predecessor’s “coddling of Chinese dictators” ended a principal front of Washington’s annual foreign policy battles by making permanent China’s most-favored-nation status.
Over time, the Chinese economic challenge began acquiring clear political and security dimensions. Earlier this month, U.S. fears forced a Chinese company to withdraw its $18.5 billion bid for Unacol, America’s eighth-largest oil firm. What would ordinarily have been considered a deepening of the globalization process suddenly became a national security threat. How could precious energy reserves be placed in the hands of a firm still linked to China’s communist government?
The modern-day version of the Red Scare has been fueled by media disclosures about how U.S. intelligence agencies failed to recognize China’s rapid modernization of its armed forces and space program. Indeed, the U.S.-China relationship has taken an unusual form. In the post-9/11 environment, China and the U.S. have come closer against international terrorism. Washington has all but subcontracted its policy on North Korea to Beijing, the last remaining external influence on the reclusive regime in Pyongyang.
President Bush, deciding the United States and China should begin holding regular senior-level talks on a range of political, security and economic issues, has formed a permanent committee. At the same time, the Chinese have been building relations with regimes in Asia, Africa and Latin America that are out of favor with the West – from Nepal to Zimbabwe to Venezuela.
On the surface, the Chinese government’s tepid response to the emerging U.S.-India partnership would seem remarkable. However, Beijing seems confident of options other than public confrontation. China, which inaugurated its own strategic partnership with India during Prime Minister Wen Jiabao’s visit in April, appears to bank on New Delhi’s willingness and ability to stand up to American pressure.
Specifically, China expects the deep suspicion of foreigners in the Indian psyche – rooted in the subcontinent’s experience with British colonialism—to limit Washington’s room for geo-strategic maneuver.Concurrently, China is expanding its influence in South Asia with its growing economic strength. The largest beneficiaries of Chinese economic aid in the region are Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka and Nepal. Beijing has long maintained a strong strategic alliance with Islamabad. Financial largesse to the other deprived economies of South Asia has allowed China to deepen its strategic influence in the region.
China views Bangladesh as a gateway into India’s troubled northeastern states. An important part of this region is Arunachal Pradesh, to which China lays territorial claims. Energy-hungry China is also attracted by Bangladesh vast natural gas reserves. Bangladesh’s border with Myanmar – with which Beijing already enjoys close ties – ensures that these reserves are accessible to China.
For China, Sri Lanka represents a strategically vital post on the Indian Ocean stretching from the Middle East to Southeast Asia. After the 9/11 attacks, Washington has assiduously sought access to Sri Lankan ports, airfields and air space for its military operations. Beijing shares New Delhi’s desire to keep Colombo out of Western alliances.
Sri Lanka’s ethnic conflict between Sinhalas and Tamils has strained relations with India, which has a Tamil-majority state of its own, and limits New Delhi’s options in the island nation. Beijing has the advantage of being unrestrained by any such factor.
Nepal’s strategic location between the two Asian giants makes the kingdom important to both. Nepal borders the Chinese province of Tibet on the one hand and Naxalite-dominated Indian states on the other. China, which successfully persuaded Nepal to crush a brief Tibetan uprising in the early 1970s, is anxious to avoid the kingdom once again becoming a launch pad for the Tibetan independence movement.
Contrary to belief in some quarters, the Chinese government has no political or financial ties with Nepal’s Maoist insurgents, who control a vast swath of the countryside. The Nepalese insurgents do have cross-border links with Maoist groups in India, which are believed to have influence in almost 40% of India’s 593 districts.
Chinese media have consistently refused to call the rebels Maoists and have voiced displeasure at what they consider an exploitation of their late leader’s good name. Nepalese Maoists, for their part, denounce Chinese communists as counter-revolutionaries.
After King Gyanendra dismissed Nepal’s multiparty government and took full political control February, angering India and the western world, China described the move as an “internal matter”. Weeks later, Beijing sent Foreign Minister Li Zhaoxing to Kathmandu in a clear gesture of support to the royal regime. Clearly, China wants Nepal to avoid Indian or western influence that could spark fresh trouble in Tibet.
Moreover, Chinese media have voiced concern that an unstable Nepal could provide fertile ground for Islamic separatists active in the northwestern Chinese region of Xinjiang. To forestall such possibilities, China is working to integrate Nepal into the Tibetan economy.
These four South Asian nations affirm that Tibet and Taiwan are integral parts of China. They also support China’s entry to join the South Asia Association for Regional Cooperation. By far, Pakistan retains the greatest strategic significance for China. A nuclear power—like China and India—Pakistan has blocked India from accessing western and Central Asian nations close to China. By keeping up to 700,000 Indian soldiers preoccupied in Kashmir, Pakistan has indirectly relieved some pressure off Chinese forces on the disputed Sino-India border.
The Pakistani port of Gwadar, built jointly by Beijing and Islamabad in the restive province of Baluchistan, provides China a strategic foothold in the Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean. The port will enable China to monitor vital energy shipments from the Persian Gulf, through which 80 percent of the world’s oil exports flow.
From China’s perspective, Pakistan will remain the regional pivot. Its outspokenness on the emerging U.S.-India strategic partnership would serve Chinese purposes as well. Islamabad can be expected to mount a strong campaign on Capitol Hill to pressure U.S. lawmakers not to adopt legislation enabling U.S.- India civilian nuclear energy cooperation.
Some American specialists have criticized the deal as a misguided reward for proliferation, especially at a time when Washington is pressuring Iran and North Korea to abandon their nuclear weapons programs. Islamabad can be expected to intensify this debate. Pakistan could also seek the help of remnants of the “cold warriors” within the Washington establishment in order to impede greater U.S. military cooperation with a country that was once firmly lodged in the Soviet camp.
With four nuclear powers competing for influence, the South Asian chess game can only get more dangerous.
August 29, 2005
The Bush administration’s decision last month to welcome India to the “nuclear club” – weeks after the two governments signed a 10-year defense cooperation agreement—has prompted contrasting reactions from two principal quarters in Asia.
Pakistan’s Foreign Ministry expressed deep concern that the two developments would destabilize the strategic balance in South Asia.
Asserting that it had conveyed its concerns to Washington, Islamabad reiterated its commitment to maintaining a credible deterrent in both conventional and non-conventional weapon systems to rectify any imbalance.
China, on the other hand, has been rather muted in its official comments. A Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesman said: “[T]he international community has reached a consensus on relevant nuclear issues. We hope the relevant cooperation between U.S. and India will be conducive to safeguarding the regional peace and stability in Asia”.
The Chinese media, which hardly veers from the official viewpoint, has been more candid on a central theme: the U.S. strategy to contain China. The prevailing view in Beijing is that the U.S. perceives India as a counter-balancing force to a ‘rising’ China and, therefore, feels the need to draw India into its fold. Another U.S. aim, Chinese analysts and media commentators point out, is to use the influential pro-American lobby within India to affect Sino-Indian relations.
Predictably, Washington and New Delhi prefer to shrug off such interpretations. There is enough evidence in the public domain, however, suggesting that a new American containment policy has been in the works for some years, particularly from neoconservative quarters.
Although China may not be where the Soviet Union was once was in terms of American threat perceptions, the Asian giant is clearly dominating public discourse in a unique way. Toward the end of the 1990s, economics had begun sidelining the democracy and human rights issues that traditionally dominated the U.S. media coverage since the establishment of the People’s Republic in 1949.
In the years after the Tiananmen Square massacre in 1989, corporate America began investing too heavily in the Chinese economic miracle to want the Communist Party dethroned. The ideals of freedom and liberty amounted to little on corporate balance sheets. The American media, which increasingly came under the ownership of many of these same U.S. corporate behemoths during this period, were understandably reluctant to portray the Chinese regime in a poor light.
President Bill Clinton, who came into office criticizing his Republican predecessor’s “coddling of Chinese dictators” ended a principal front of Washington’s annual foreign policy battles by making permanent China’s most-favored-nation status.
Over time, the Chinese economic challenge began acquiring clear political and security dimensions. Earlier this month, U.S. fears forced a Chinese company to withdraw its $18.5 billion bid for Unacol, America’s eighth-largest oil firm. What would ordinarily have been considered a deepening of the globalization process suddenly became a national security threat. How could precious energy reserves be placed in the hands of a firm still linked to China’s communist government?
The modern-day version of the Red Scare has been fueled by media disclosures about how U.S. intelligence agencies failed to recognize China’s rapid modernization of its armed forces and space program. Indeed, the U.S.-China relationship has taken an unusual form. In the post-9/11 environment, China and the U.S. have come closer against international terrorism. Washington has all but subcontracted its policy on North Korea to Beijing, the last remaining external influence on the reclusive regime in Pyongyang.
President Bush, deciding the United States and China should begin holding regular senior-level talks on a range of political, security and economic issues, has formed a permanent committee. At the same time, the Chinese have been building relations with regimes in Asia, Africa and Latin America that are out of favor with the West – from Nepal to Zimbabwe to Venezuela.
On the surface, the Chinese government’s tepid response to the emerging U.S.-India partnership would seem remarkable. However, Beijing seems confident of options other than public confrontation. China, which inaugurated its own strategic partnership with India during Prime Minister Wen Jiabao’s visit in April, appears to bank on New Delhi’s willingness and ability to stand up to American pressure.
Specifically, China expects the deep suspicion of foreigners in the Indian psyche – rooted in the subcontinent’s experience with British colonialism—to limit Washington’s room for geo-strategic maneuver.Concurrently, China is expanding its influence in South Asia with its growing economic strength. The largest beneficiaries of Chinese economic aid in the region are Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka and Nepal. Beijing has long maintained a strong strategic alliance with Islamabad. Financial largesse to the other deprived economies of South Asia has allowed China to deepen its strategic influence in the region.
China views Bangladesh as a gateway into India’s troubled northeastern states. An important part of this region is Arunachal Pradesh, to which China lays territorial claims. Energy-hungry China is also attracted by Bangladesh vast natural gas reserves. Bangladesh’s border with Myanmar – with which Beijing already enjoys close ties – ensures that these reserves are accessible to China.
For China, Sri Lanka represents a strategically vital post on the Indian Ocean stretching from the Middle East to Southeast Asia. After the 9/11 attacks, Washington has assiduously sought access to Sri Lankan ports, airfields and air space for its military operations. Beijing shares New Delhi’s desire to keep Colombo out of Western alliances.
Sri Lanka’s ethnic conflict between Sinhalas and Tamils has strained relations with India, which has a Tamil-majority state of its own, and limits New Delhi’s options in the island nation. Beijing has the advantage of being unrestrained by any such factor.
Nepal’s strategic location between the two Asian giants makes the kingdom important to both. Nepal borders the Chinese province of Tibet on the one hand and Naxalite-dominated Indian states on the other. China, which successfully persuaded Nepal to crush a brief Tibetan uprising in the early 1970s, is anxious to avoid the kingdom once again becoming a launch pad for the Tibetan independence movement.
Contrary to belief in some quarters, the Chinese government has no political or financial ties with Nepal’s Maoist insurgents, who control a vast swath of the countryside. The Nepalese insurgents do have cross-border links with Maoist groups in India, which are believed to have influence in almost 40% of India’s 593 districts.
Chinese media have consistently refused to call the rebels Maoists and have voiced displeasure at what they consider an exploitation of their late leader’s good name. Nepalese Maoists, for their part, denounce Chinese communists as counter-revolutionaries.
After King Gyanendra dismissed Nepal’s multiparty government and took full political control February, angering India and the western world, China described the move as an “internal matter”. Weeks later, Beijing sent Foreign Minister Li Zhaoxing to Kathmandu in a clear gesture of support to the royal regime. Clearly, China wants Nepal to avoid Indian or western influence that could spark fresh trouble in Tibet.
Moreover, Chinese media have voiced concern that an unstable Nepal could provide fertile ground for Islamic separatists active in the northwestern Chinese region of Xinjiang. To forestall such possibilities, China is working to integrate Nepal into the Tibetan economy.
These four South Asian nations affirm that Tibet and Taiwan are integral parts of China. They also support China’s entry to join the South Asia Association for Regional Cooperation. By far, Pakistan retains the greatest strategic significance for China. A nuclear power—like China and India—Pakistan has blocked India from accessing western and Central Asian nations close to China. By keeping up to 700,000 Indian soldiers preoccupied in Kashmir, Pakistan has indirectly relieved some pressure off Chinese forces on the disputed Sino-India border.
The Pakistani port of Gwadar, built jointly by Beijing and Islamabad in the restive province of Baluchistan, provides China a strategic foothold in the Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean. The port will enable China to monitor vital energy shipments from the Persian Gulf, through which 80 percent of the world’s oil exports flow.
From China’s perspective, Pakistan will remain the regional pivot. Its outspokenness on the emerging U.S.-India strategic partnership would serve Chinese purposes as well. Islamabad can be expected to mount a strong campaign on Capitol Hill to pressure U.S. lawmakers not to adopt legislation enabling U.S.- India civilian nuclear energy cooperation.
Some American specialists have criticized the deal as a misguided reward for proliferation, especially at a time when Washington is pressuring Iran and North Korea to abandon their nuclear weapons programs. Islamabad can be expected to intensify this debate. Pakistan could also seek the help of remnants of the “cold warriors” within the Washington establishment in order to impede greater U.S. military cooperation with a country that was once firmly lodged in the Soviet camp.
With four nuclear powers competing for influence, the South Asian chess game can only get more dangerous.
Don’t Ignore The Real Sovereignty Issue
By Sanjay Upadhya
June 15, 2005
Fifty-five years after Nepalis were introduced to democracy, we are still debating that old debate. Where should the nation’s sovereignty reside? It looked like the democratic constitution of 1990 had settled that question for good. The drafters explicitly formalized the transfer of sovereignty from the palace to the people. A worse revelation was to come. Nepalis still do not seem to be able to resolve our problems internally.
The democratic leaders of the 1950s sojourned to the Indian capital during critical crises. As the principal architect of the compromise that ushered in democracy, New Delhi considered itself a legitimate stakeholder in the kingdom. After all, the king, prime minister and young revolutionaries had met for the first time under the auspices of the Indian prime minister.
For an influential section of Nepalis, however, the embrace was too tight. The emergence of northern neighbor from decades of civil war changed domestic dynamics. Ideology was no bar to cooperation between the world’s only Hindu kingdom and the officially atheist monolith.
India was hardly out of the picture during the palace’s three-decade non-party rule that began in 1960. The premium was on quiet diplomacy. It turned out that many agreements and memorandums – some supposedly inimical to Nepali interests—were concluded in secret. Critics claim the royal regime in effect gave away the territory of Kalapani to India – by allowing Indian troops to retain military posts in the aftermath of the Sino-Indian war of 1962 – in exchange for New Delhi’s support.
Kalapani and other issues have been used in recent years to question the palace’s nationalist credentials. The record shows that, during the same period, the royal regime sought to defend the kingdom against infringements on sovereignty by heightening its international profile. Nepal became a member of the United Nations Security Council, for instance, which extricated the country from the category of Himalayan kingdoms India claimed fell within its exclusive sphere of influence.
With the restoration of multiparty democracy in 1990, the “India factor” became a more prominent part of the political lexicon. For many, the Indian Embassy emerged as a fourth power center, after the palace, Nepali Congress and communists. Few know for sure whether the Indian ambassador really had such a dominant role in creating and destroying governments. But the perception stuck and many politicians capitalized on it in different ways.
Following King Gyanendra’s takeover of full executive control, a new movement to restore democracy has gripped Nepal. Leaders have promised a fight to the finish this time. Despite all the heat and dust generated on Kathmandu’s streets, Nepalis have discovered that the political parleys with real significance are being held in New Delhi.
Former prime minister Girija Prasad Koirala and ex-deputy premier Bam Dev Gautam may represent opposite poles of mainstream politics. Today both are camping in New Delhi to seek Indian imprimatur on the roadmap to democracy. Surya Bahadur Thapa, the royalist most closely identified with India—and who does not seem to mind – is scheduled to arrive later this month.
A careful reading of the Maoists demands shows that they have greater substantive grievances with India than with the monarchy. They, too, are in the Indian capital awaiting a compromise. (Too bad they are too young to join their colleagues in professing “medical treatment” as the purpose of their visit.)
King Gyanendra, for his part, is scheduled to meet Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh on the sidelines of the G-77 summit in Qatar. The optimism generated by their first meeting in Jakarta in April, on the sidelines of an Afro-Asian summit, proved short-lived.
To be sure, democracy, human rights, freedom of the press are too sacrosanct not to be universal. If foreign governments or entities extend any kind of support toward those goals, should that be construed as harmful intereference? You don’t have to be a xenophobe or isolationist to resent the groveling, though. The country, moreover, has recognized the price of external support.
The cardinal truth is that democracy is in the eye of the foreign beholder. The partyless panchayat system was democratic enough for India as long as it didn’t overtly challenge New Delhi’s version of the Monroe Doctrine. When Nepal tried buying Chinese arms at bargain prices in 1988, it was clear India had no room for economics in its geopolitical calculations. A crippling trade and transit embargo propelled the movement to restore multiparty democracy.
Those with the greatest propensity for cross-border consultations should be the first ones to recognize the perils. The prime ministerial system had begun to take hold in Nepal under Girija Prasad Koirala between 1991 and 1994. New and more contentious issues between Nepal and India burst out into the open. The opposition regularly stalled parliament and took to the streets against Koirala’s “sell-out” of Nepal’s water resources. Spokesmen for high-level Indian delegations in town would give reporters a wink and whisper that the real bilateral discussions were going to be held at the palace.
After a point, blaming Indians for brazen interference won’t do much good. Indian politicians and diplomats are not paid to advance Nepal’s national interest. Eventually, the ability of Nepalis to resolve differences within the country will determine our national resiliency.
How ready are Nepalis to believe that other Nepalis are as good as they are? Casting mainstream politicians as a corrupt crowd of degenerates craving power under the garb of civil liberties is as dangerous as castigating the palace’s roadmap as a trajectory to a feudal past. Or denouncing the Maoist rebels as misguided murderous marauders.
Clearly, Nepalis today face three competing visions for the future and these must be debated on their merits. Maybe – just maybe – then we could get past the real sovereignty debate.
June 15, 2005
Fifty-five years after Nepalis were introduced to democracy, we are still debating that old debate. Where should the nation’s sovereignty reside? It looked like the democratic constitution of 1990 had settled that question for good. The drafters explicitly formalized the transfer of sovereignty from the palace to the people. A worse revelation was to come. Nepalis still do not seem to be able to resolve our problems internally.
The democratic leaders of the 1950s sojourned to the Indian capital during critical crises. As the principal architect of the compromise that ushered in democracy, New Delhi considered itself a legitimate stakeholder in the kingdom. After all, the king, prime minister and young revolutionaries had met for the first time under the auspices of the Indian prime minister.
For an influential section of Nepalis, however, the embrace was too tight. The emergence of northern neighbor from decades of civil war changed domestic dynamics. Ideology was no bar to cooperation between the world’s only Hindu kingdom and the officially atheist monolith.
India was hardly out of the picture during the palace’s three-decade non-party rule that began in 1960. The premium was on quiet diplomacy. It turned out that many agreements and memorandums – some supposedly inimical to Nepali interests—were concluded in secret. Critics claim the royal regime in effect gave away the territory of Kalapani to India – by allowing Indian troops to retain military posts in the aftermath of the Sino-Indian war of 1962 – in exchange for New Delhi’s support.
Kalapani and other issues have been used in recent years to question the palace’s nationalist credentials. The record shows that, during the same period, the royal regime sought to defend the kingdom against infringements on sovereignty by heightening its international profile. Nepal became a member of the United Nations Security Council, for instance, which extricated the country from the category of Himalayan kingdoms India claimed fell within its exclusive sphere of influence.
With the restoration of multiparty democracy in 1990, the “India factor” became a more prominent part of the political lexicon. For many, the Indian Embassy emerged as a fourth power center, after the palace, Nepali Congress and communists. Few know for sure whether the Indian ambassador really had such a dominant role in creating and destroying governments. But the perception stuck and many politicians capitalized on it in different ways.
Following King Gyanendra’s takeover of full executive control, a new movement to restore democracy has gripped Nepal. Leaders have promised a fight to the finish this time. Despite all the heat and dust generated on Kathmandu’s streets, Nepalis have discovered that the political parleys with real significance are being held in New Delhi.
Former prime minister Girija Prasad Koirala and ex-deputy premier Bam Dev Gautam may represent opposite poles of mainstream politics. Today both are camping in New Delhi to seek Indian imprimatur on the roadmap to democracy. Surya Bahadur Thapa, the royalist most closely identified with India—and who does not seem to mind – is scheduled to arrive later this month.
A careful reading of the Maoists demands shows that they have greater substantive grievances with India than with the monarchy. They, too, are in the Indian capital awaiting a compromise. (Too bad they are too young to join their colleagues in professing “medical treatment” as the purpose of their visit.)
King Gyanendra, for his part, is scheduled to meet Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh on the sidelines of the G-77 summit in Qatar. The optimism generated by their first meeting in Jakarta in April, on the sidelines of an Afro-Asian summit, proved short-lived.
To be sure, democracy, human rights, freedom of the press are too sacrosanct not to be universal. If foreign governments or entities extend any kind of support toward those goals, should that be construed as harmful intereference? You don’t have to be a xenophobe or isolationist to resent the groveling, though. The country, moreover, has recognized the price of external support.
The cardinal truth is that democracy is in the eye of the foreign beholder. The partyless panchayat system was democratic enough for India as long as it didn’t overtly challenge New Delhi’s version of the Monroe Doctrine. When Nepal tried buying Chinese arms at bargain prices in 1988, it was clear India had no room for economics in its geopolitical calculations. A crippling trade and transit embargo propelled the movement to restore multiparty democracy.
Those with the greatest propensity for cross-border consultations should be the first ones to recognize the perils. The prime ministerial system had begun to take hold in Nepal under Girija Prasad Koirala between 1991 and 1994. New and more contentious issues between Nepal and India burst out into the open. The opposition regularly stalled parliament and took to the streets against Koirala’s “sell-out” of Nepal’s water resources. Spokesmen for high-level Indian delegations in town would give reporters a wink and whisper that the real bilateral discussions were going to be held at the palace.
After a point, blaming Indians for brazen interference won’t do much good. Indian politicians and diplomats are not paid to advance Nepal’s national interest. Eventually, the ability of Nepalis to resolve differences within the country will determine our national resiliency.
How ready are Nepalis to believe that other Nepalis are as good as they are? Casting mainstream politicians as a corrupt crowd of degenerates craving power under the garb of civil liberties is as dangerous as castigating the palace’s roadmap as a trajectory to a feudal past. Or denouncing the Maoist rebels as misguided murderous marauders.
Clearly, Nepalis today face three competing visions for the future and these must be debated on their merits. Maybe – just maybe – then we could get past the real sovereignty debate.
Republicanism: How About A Real Public Debate?
By Sanjay Upadhya
June 8, 2005
Amid the flurry of political activity in Kathmandu and New Delhi in recent weeks, the myth surrounding the restoration of multiparty democracy in 1990 is being dispelled. From the outset, it was clear that the tripartite agreement among the royal palace, the Nepali Congress and a disparate alliance of communist factions was an uneasy one.
The main communist faction, the Marxist-Leninist, had officially expressed qualified support for the new constitution. The party’s objections primarily centered on the role and privileges of the monarchy. It was hardly a secret that the communist parties’ acceptance of constitutional monarchy was a tactical decision. The comrades, not too surprisingly, saw the palace as a useful counterweight to the Nepali Congress’ ambitions.
In the aftermath of King Gyanendra’s February 1 takeover of full executive powers, the Nepali Congress, too, has signaled that its support for constitutional monarchy is, at best, driven by expediency.
Ever since King Gyanendra dismissed the last elected government in October 2002 for failing to hold elections, Nepali Congress president Girija Prasad Koirala has been warning that the king’s political ambitions would compelled him to contemplate an alliance with the Maoist rebels to abolish the monarchy. This is surely a leap of faith for a man who headed the government that inaugurated the unleashing of state power against the rebels, who have been fighting since 1996 to establish a communist republic.
Now Koirala’s one-time deputy, Ram Chandra Poudel, has gone a step further by asserting that King Birendra was not satisfied with the powers granted him under the constitution. For a party that proclaimed that King Birendra was the paragon of virtue when it came to adherence to the constitution, Poudel’s disclosure was revealing departure. Moreover, Poudel must have had to summon much antipathy to speak in the way he did against the former monarch around the fourth anniversary of the palace massacre that wiped out most of the royal family.
The monarchy, to be sure, could not have been satisfied with the restricted political role the two major parties envisaged for him in the new constitution. What King Birendra announced on the night of April 8, 1990 was merely the lifting of the ban on political parties. The ensuing days witnessed a struggle for power on the streets and in the media. The scales were tipped against the palace, already weakened by a crippling trade and transit embargo imposed by India. Fifteen years later, the palace stepped in to claim a role it believed it never had relinquished under the tripartite agreement.
Among the leaders still detained by the royal government after the lifting the state of emergency on April 30 are leading proponents of a constituent assembly. This is a key demand of the Maoists, who expect the elected body to transform the kingdom into a republic. The detentions indicate that the palace is ready for a showdown regardless of the quarter it emanated from.
Koirala, the leader of the seven-party anti-palace alliance formed last month, is currently in India for medical treatment. He has been holding talks with sympathetic Indian leaders in an effort to consolidate the democracy movement in Nepal. Advocating a “fight to the finish for full democracy”, he may be contemplating some kind of alliance with the Maoists, who have acknowledged opening their own contacts with key Indian leaders. It remains unclear, though, whether the latest consultations would help clarify the republican agenda.
Indeed, precious little has been heard so far. Considering the Nepalese political parties’ propensity for polarization while in power – a trait preponderant during the two phases of multiparty democracy in 1951-1960 and 1990-2002 – the contours of a republican future need to be drawn clearly. The process needs to begin with a precise definition of the relationship between the head of state and head of government, including role, functions and powers.
To some extent, a United States-style presidential system might help avoid conflicts. Since such a model would be seen centralizing power in one branch, legislative and judicial checks and balances acquire special attention.
An Indian-style prime ministerial model would envisage a titular head of state. Since the president would be the supreme commander of the armed forces, the command-and-control conflicts the mainstream parties see under the monarchy would still exist. This issue acquires additional urgency in view of the heavy politicization of the police force and bureaucracy under successive elected governments.
Irrespective of the model, effective safeguards against potential conflicts between the executive and legislative branches must be put in place. Questions relating to the president’s tenure, including impeachment, must be addressed vigorously, considering the frequency with which no-confidence motions were introduced against the prime minister in the past.
The prime minister’s prerogative to dissolve parliament and call fresh elections, a subject of much divisiveness in the past, must be clearly addressed. There are legitimate issues concerning the judiciary, especially since each prime minister that dissolved the House of Representatives was eventually challenged in the Supreme Court.
In the case of direct elections to both offices, the issue of power-sharing by a president and prime minister representing rival parties becomes crucial. French-style “cohabitation” under which jurisdictions for foreign and domestic policies are clearly laid out, might provide some insights.
Awaiting greater clarification, though, is the precise mechanism of ushering in a republic. The current discussions on a constituent assembly remain superficial. Worse, they presume that the popular verdict is already known. Will voting be conducted along the present first-past-the-post system or proportional representation? How can traditionally underrepresented groups expect their voices and concerns to be heard? Would the people’s representatives elected on diverse platforms assemble to vote on a future model? Or would the issue be put directly to a referendum? Considering the deep divisions in the electorate, how would each of the alternative outcome scenarios be addressed? Who exactly will be drafting a new constitution? Discussions have focused too narrowly on how the palace might react to an adverse result. How would the mainstream parties and the Maoists respond to an outcome not to their liking?
In the case of a republican victory, how would the ambiguities contained in the Maoists’ commitment to their ultimate goal of establishing a communist republic be addressed? This question becomes all the more important in view of the growing interest and influence of external powers in Nepal.
For China, India, United States and Britain, among other countries, the monarchy has been the pivot of stability since the 1950s. Public support, tradition and continuity have conferred special legitimacy to the institution, which external powers have acknowledged and incorporated in their policies vis-à-vis the country.
A full Maoist takeover would hardly be acceptable to them, albeit for different reasons. The United States, which sees its victory over communism as a seminal event of the last century, would hardly countenance such a brazen reversal of that reality. Moreover, Washington has designated the rebels a terrorist group.
The Maoists, who have carefully calibrated their postures in keeping with the exigencies of the moment, may be ready to shed some of their doctrinaire policies and rhetoric in exchange for legitimacy.
However, it remains doubtful whether they would be ready to change the party name and flag in exchange for western support, especially when the far more moderate Unified Marxist Leninists have not been able to do so.
Despite misguided attempts to portray a Chinese hand behind the insurgency, it is clear that Beijing would hardly acquiesce in the emergence of a hard-line Maoist government in Nepal. The Nepalese Maoists continue to espouse aspects of the Cultural Revolution—including class conflicts and retribution – which modern-day Chinese communists would prefer to forget. Moreover, at a time when economic reforms have left a huge rural-urban income divide in China, the communist leadership in Beijing cannot be unaware of the destabilizing effects of a homegrown yet antiquated ideology in a volatile part of South Asia.
As for India, extreme left-wing insurgencies grip some 40 percent of the country’s 593 districts. A full-fledged Maoist takeover in Nepal would serve to energize these groups into forging their wider compact revolutionary zone in South Asia. Considering the long and porous border between the two countries and the peoples’ longstanding links, sections in the Indian establishment might be willing to contemplate a Maoist-dominated republican Nepal under the presidency of, say, the Nepali Congress.
Indeed, New Delhi’s recent decision to open direct channels of communication with the Nepalese Maoists, purportedly under the auspices of leftist supporters of the ruling coalition, could be aimed at facilitating such an alliance. Would the vociferous Hindutva element in India accede to the destruction of the world’s only Hindu kingdom?
Despite the much-hyped bonhomie between China and India, New Delhi’s enthusiasm in defining a new state structure in Nepal would clearly sensitize Beijing. Growing cooperation between the world’s two most populous nations cannot mask the reality that they are also competitors. The limits to conciliation have been on display for some time.
Despite India’s full recognition of Tibet as an integral part of China, Beijing has hardly shown unequivocal reciprocity on the issue of Sikkim, the Himalayan kingdom India annexed in 1974. China’s reticence on India’s candidacy for a permanent seat on the United Nations Security Council provides yet another illustration of this complex relationship.
In keeping with its massive economic expansion, China has decided to deepen its strategic influence in the region, especially with Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal and Sri Lanka. According to a report published in April by Washington DC-based Jamestown Foundation, Nepal’s strategic location makes the kingdom an important part of South Asia. Nepal’s borders meet China’s restive western province of Tibet on the one hand, and Naxalite-dominated Indian states on the other.
China has traditionally viewed the monarchy as the cornerstone of its Nepal policy. Weeks after describing the royal takeover as an “internal matter,” China sent Foreign Minister Li Zhaoxing to Nepal in a clear gesture of support. Jia Qinglin, chairman of the National Committee of Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference, China’s top advisory body, reaffirmed his country’s support during a meeting with King Gyanendra in April on the sidelines of the Boao Forum for Asia conference in Hainan.
In return, the Jamestown report says, China wants the Nepalese government to stay clear of any foreign (Indian or the U.S.) influence that could make trouble in Tibet. To further the goal of status quo in Tibet, China is integrating Nepal into the Tibetan economy, and laying a highway that will connect the two. Chinese President Hu Jintao, who served as Communist Party secretary in Tibet from 1988 to 1992, perhaps best understands the importance of this integration.
The United States, which joined India and Britain in arming and training the Royal Nepalese Army in its fight against the Maoists, has embarked on a deft policy. While the other two countries responded to the royal takeover by announcing a suspension of military assistance, the United States adopted a watch-and-wait policy. Publicly, Washington continues to emphasize policy coordination with New Delhi and London. Behind the scenes, Washington has engaged with Beijing, already is a key intermediary in the North Korean nuclear crisis.
The Bush administration, aware of China’s recent moves to fill a vacuum in Asian leadership, has assigned Deputy Secretary of State Robert B. Zoellick to head a permanent U.S. delegation to talk with China one a variety of international issues, including Burma, Nepal and Sudan.
In a 2002 report, the U.S. research organization Stratfor wrote that Washington has relatively little interest in Nepal’s insurgency. However, it added, the Pentagon likely would not mind having another emergency air base or logistics center close to Pakistan and Central Asia. “In looking toward the longer term, the United States definitely wants as much of a presence on the border with China as possible,” the report said.
Beijing is well aware of Washington’s intentions and is no doubt concerned about the U.S. encirclement that is already taking place, Stratfor said. “The U.S. military has bases in Pakistan, throughout Central Asia, Japan, South Korea and the Philippines, and it has relations with Mongolia, Taiwan, Singapore and Thailand. Nepal is another link in the chain,” it added.
Referring to India’s strategic decision in the mid-1990s to move closer to the United States, Stratfor said New Delhi hoped to benefit from increased trade, eventual access to U.S. weapons systems and the formation of a strong alliance to counter China.
“However, American involvement with Nepal and Sri Lanka raises conflicting impulses. On one hand, New Delhi is glad to see Washington trying to clean up the insurgencies that have spilled over into its borders for years. On the other hand, there is a visceral reaction against foreign involvement in India’s backyard, especially when those foreigners maintain strong ties with Indian rival Pakistan.”
The report added: “Many in India’s foreign policy circles are concerned that Washington may replace India as the dominant power in South Asia, assuming that Nepal, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and Bhutan prefer the freedom that comes with casting their allegiance with a distant giant rather than one close to home.” This, according to Stratfor, has dampened India’s hope of becoming the dominant power in the Indian Ocean and interacting with Washington as a near equal.
In an earlier report, Stratfor underscored Nepal’s strong geo-strategic value to world powers. “The power that stations its space-linked surveillance, intelligence and navigation systems on Nepal’s high mountains gets geo-strategic leverage over several Asian regions, from Central Asia to South-East Asia,” the report said.
Clearly, Nepal must brace for new domestic and international challenges. Proponents of a republican agenda need to persuade the people that the new model would be more effective than the monarchy in address these challenges. Rhetorical threats must not be allowed to take the place of substantive discussions. The accusation that King Gyanendra in this day and age is bent on reviving autocracy is an insult to the intelligence of the Nepalese people.
June 8, 2005
Amid the flurry of political activity in Kathmandu and New Delhi in recent weeks, the myth surrounding the restoration of multiparty democracy in 1990 is being dispelled. From the outset, it was clear that the tripartite agreement among the royal palace, the Nepali Congress and a disparate alliance of communist factions was an uneasy one.
The main communist faction, the Marxist-Leninist, had officially expressed qualified support for the new constitution. The party’s objections primarily centered on the role and privileges of the monarchy. It was hardly a secret that the communist parties’ acceptance of constitutional monarchy was a tactical decision. The comrades, not too surprisingly, saw the palace as a useful counterweight to the Nepali Congress’ ambitions.
In the aftermath of King Gyanendra’s February 1 takeover of full executive powers, the Nepali Congress, too, has signaled that its support for constitutional monarchy is, at best, driven by expediency.
Ever since King Gyanendra dismissed the last elected government in October 2002 for failing to hold elections, Nepali Congress president Girija Prasad Koirala has been warning that the king’s political ambitions would compelled him to contemplate an alliance with the Maoist rebels to abolish the monarchy. This is surely a leap of faith for a man who headed the government that inaugurated the unleashing of state power against the rebels, who have been fighting since 1996 to establish a communist republic.
Now Koirala’s one-time deputy, Ram Chandra Poudel, has gone a step further by asserting that King Birendra was not satisfied with the powers granted him under the constitution. For a party that proclaimed that King Birendra was the paragon of virtue when it came to adherence to the constitution, Poudel’s disclosure was revealing departure. Moreover, Poudel must have had to summon much antipathy to speak in the way he did against the former monarch around the fourth anniversary of the palace massacre that wiped out most of the royal family.
The monarchy, to be sure, could not have been satisfied with the restricted political role the two major parties envisaged for him in the new constitution. What King Birendra announced on the night of April 8, 1990 was merely the lifting of the ban on political parties. The ensuing days witnessed a struggle for power on the streets and in the media. The scales were tipped against the palace, already weakened by a crippling trade and transit embargo imposed by India. Fifteen years later, the palace stepped in to claim a role it believed it never had relinquished under the tripartite agreement.
Among the leaders still detained by the royal government after the lifting the state of emergency on April 30 are leading proponents of a constituent assembly. This is a key demand of the Maoists, who expect the elected body to transform the kingdom into a republic. The detentions indicate that the palace is ready for a showdown regardless of the quarter it emanated from.
Koirala, the leader of the seven-party anti-palace alliance formed last month, is currently in India for medical treatment. He has been holding talks with sympathetic Indian leaders in an effort to consolidate the democracy movement in Nepal. Advocating a “fight to the finish for full democracy”, he may be contemplating some kind of alliance with the Maoists, who have acknowledged opening their own contacts with key Indian leaders. It remains unclear, though, whether the latest consultations would help clarify the republican agenda.
Indeed, precious little has been heard so far. Considering the Nepalese political parties’ propensity for polarization while in power – a trait preponderant during the two phases of multiparty democracy in 1951-1960 and 1990-2002 – the contours of a republican future need to be drawn clearly. The process needs to begin with a precise definition of the relationship between the head of state and head of government, including role, functions and powers.
To some extent, a United States-style presidential system might help avoid conflicts. Since such a model would be seen centralizing power in one branch, legislative and judicial checks and balances acquire special attention.
An Indian-style prime ministerial model would envisage a titular head of state. Since the president would be the supreme commander of the armed forces, the command-and-control conflicts the mainstream parties see under the monarchy would still exist. This issue acquires additional urgency in view of the heavy politicization of the police force and bureaucracy under successive elected governments.
Irrespective of the model, effective safeguards against potential conflicts between the executive and legislative branches must be put in place. Questions relating to the president’s tenure, including impeachment, must be addressed vigorously, considering the frequency with which no-confidence motions were introduced against the prime minister in the past.
The prime minister’s prerogative to dissolve parliament and call fresh elections, a subject of much divisiveness in the past, must be clearly addressed. There are legitimate issues concerning the judiciary, especially since each prime minister that dissolved the House of Representatives was eventually challenged in the Supreme Court.
In the case of direct elections to both offices, the issue of power-sharing by a president and prime minister representing rival parties becomes crucial. French-style “cohabitation” under which jurisdictions for foreign and domestic policies are clearly laid out, might provide some insights.
Awaiting greater clarification, though, is the precise mechanism of ushering in a republic. The current discussions on a constituent assembly remain superficial. Worse, they presume that the popular verdict is already known. Will voting be conducted along the present first-past-the-post system or proportional representation? How can traditionally underrepresented groups expect their voices and concerns to be heard? Would the people’s representatives elected on diverse platforms assemble to vote on a future model? Or would the issue be put directly to a referendum? Considering the deep divisions in the electorate, how would each of the alternative outcome scenarios be addressed? Who exactly will be drafting a new constitution? Discussions have focused too narrowly on how the palace might react to an adverse result. How would the mainstream parties and the Maoists respond to an outcome not to their liking?
In the case of a republican victory, how would the ambiguities contained in the Maoists’ commitment to their ultimate goal of establishing a communist republic be addressed? This question becomes all the more important in view of the growing interest and influence of external powers in Nepal.
For China, India, United States and Britain, among other countries, the monarchy has been the pivot of stability since the 1950s. Public support, tradition and continuity have conferred special legitimacy to the institution, which external powers have acknowledged and incorporated in their policies vis-à-vis the country.
A full Maoist takeover would hardly be acceptable to them, albeit for different reasons. The United States, which sees its victory over communism as a seminal event of the last century, would hardly countenance such a brazen reversal of that reality. Moreover, Washington has designated the rebels a terrorist group.
The Maoists, who have carefully calibrated their postures in keeping with the exigencies of the moment, may be ready to shed some of their doctrinaire policies and rhetoric in exchange for legitimacy.
However, it remains doubtful whether they would be ready to change the party name and flag in exchange for western support, especially when the far more moderate Unified Marxist Leninists have not been able to do so.
Despite misguided attempts to portray a Chinese hand behind the insurgency, it is clear that Beijing would hardly acquiesce in the emergence of a hard-line Maoist government in Nepal. The Nepalese Maoists continue to espouse aspects of the Cultural Revolution—including class conflicts and retribution – which modern-day Chinese communists would prefer to forget. Moreover, at a time when economic reforms have left a huge rural-urban income divide in China, the communist leadership in Beijing cannot be unaware of the destabilizing effects of a homegrown yet antiquated ideology in a volatile part of South Asia.
As for India, extreme left-wing insurgencies grip some 40 percent of the country’s 593 districts. A full-fledged Maoist takeover in Nepal would serve to energize these groups into forging their wider compact revolutionary zone in South Asia. Considering the long and porous border between the two countries and the peoples’ longstanding links, sections in the Indian establishment might be willing to contemplate a Maoist-dominated republican Nepal under the presidency of, say, the Nepali Congress.
Indeed, New Delhi’s recent decision to open direct channels of communication with the Nepalese Maoists, purportedly under the auspices of leftist supporters of the ruling coalition, could be aimed at facilitating such an alliance. Would the vociferous Hindutva element in India accede to the destruction of the world’s only Hindu kingdom?
Despite the much-hyped bonhomie between China and India, New Delhi’s enthusiasm in defining a new state structure in Nepal would clearly sensitize Beijing. Growing cooperation between the world’s two most populous nations cannot mask the reality that they are also competitors. The limits to conciliation have been on display for some time.
Despite India’s full recognition of Tibet as an integral part of China, Beijing has hardly shown unequivocal reciprocity on the issue of Sikkim, the Himalayan kingdom India annexed in 1974. China’s reticence on India’s candidacy for a permanent seat on the United Nations Security Council provides yet another illustration of this complex relationship.
In keeping with its massive economic expansion, China has decided to deepen its strategic influence in the region, especially with Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal and Sri Lanka. According to a report published in April by Washington DC-based Jamestown Foundation, Nepal’s strategic location makes the kingdom an important part of South Asia. Nepal’s borders meet China’s restive western province of Tibet on the one hand, and Naxalite-dominated Indian states on the other.
China has traditionally viewed the monarchy as the cornerstone of its Nepal policy. Weeks after describing the royal takeover as an “internal matter,” China sent Foreign Minister Li Zhaoxing to Nepal in a clear gesture of support. Jia Qinglin, chairman of the National Committee of Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference, China’s top advisory body, reaffirmed his country’s support during a meeting with King Gyanendra in April on the sidelines of the Boao Forum for Asia conference in Hainan.
In return, the Jamestown report says, China wants the Nepalese government to stay clear of any foreign (Indian or the U.S.) influence that could make trouble in Tibet. To further the goal of status quo in Tibet, China is integrating Nepal into the Tibetan economy, and laying a highway that will connect the two. Chinese President Hu Jintao, who served as Communist Party secretary in Tibet from 1988 to 1992, perhaps best understands the importance of this integration.
The United States, which joined India and Britain in arming and training the Royal Nepalese Army in its fight against the Maoists, has embarked on a deft policy. While the other two countries responded to the royal takeover by announcing a suspension of military assistance, the United States adopted a watch-and-wait policy. Publicly, Washington continues to emphasize policy coordination with New Delhi and London. Behind the scenes, Washington has engaged with Beijing, already is a key intermediary in the North Korean nuclear crisis.
The Bush administration, aware of China’s recent moves to fill a vacuum in Asian leadership, has assigned Deputy Secretary of State Robert B. Zoellick to head a permanent U.S. delegation to talk with China one a variety of international issues, including Burma, Nepal and Sudan.
In a 2002 report, the U.S. research organization Stratfor wrote that Washington has relatively little interest in Nepal’s insurgency. However, it added, the Pentagon likely would not mind having another emergency air base or logistics center close to Pakistan and Central Asia. “In looking toward the longer term, the United States definitely wants as much of a presence on the border with China as possible,” the report said.
Beijing is well aware of Washington’s intentions and is no doubt concerned about the U.S. encirclement that is already taking place, Stratfor said. “The U.S. military has bases in Pakistan, throughout Central Asia, Japan, South Korea and the Philippines, and it has relations with Mongolia, Taiwan, Singapore and Thailand. Nepal is another link in the chain,” it added.
Referring to India’s strategic decision in the mid-1990s to move closer to the United States, Stratfor said New Delhi hoped to benefit from increased trade, eventual access to U.S. weapons systems and the formation of a strong alliance to counter China.
“However, American involvement with Nepal and Sri Lanka raises conflicting impulses. On one hand, New Delhi is glad to see Washington trying to clean up the insurgencies that have spilled over into its borders for years. On the other hand, there is a visceral reaction against foreign involvement in India’s backyard, especially when those foreigners maintain strong ties with Indian rival Pakistan.”
The report added: “Many in India’s foreign policy circles are concerned that Washington may replace India as the dominant power in South Asia, assuming that Nepal, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and Bhutan prefer the freedom that comes with casting their allegiance with a distant giant rather than one close to home.” This, according to Stratfor, has dampened India’s hope of becoming the dominant power in the Indian Ocean and interacting with Washington as a near equal.
In an earlier report, Stratfor underscored Nepal’s strong geo-strategic value to world powers. “The power that stations its space-linked surveillance, intelligence and navigation systems on Nepal’s high mountains gets geo-strategic leverage over several Asian regions, from Central Asia to South-East Asia,” the report said.
Clearly, Nepal must brace for new domestic and international challenges. Proponents of a republican agenda need to persuade the people that the new model would be more effective than the monarchy in address these challenges. Rhetorical threats must not be allowed to take the place of substantive discussions. The accusation that King Gyanendra in this day and age is bent on reviving autocracy is an insult to the intelligence of the Nepalese people.
Nepal: Crystal-gazing Through The Crisis
By Sanjay Upadhya
June 3, 2005
The most levelheaded assessment of Nepal’s current crisis has come from US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. In a delayed disclosure, US Ambassador to Nepal James F. Moriarty last week quoted Madam Secretary as saying that what King Gyanendra had done would “crystallize” events.
Some of the cloudiness has begun to lift. Seven mainstream parties have begun what they call a final fight for full democracy. In a clear application of the pre-emption doctrine, their student wings have vowed to resist the royal government’s plan to rewrite the school curriculum along “nationalistic” lines. Journalists, too, are out on the streets for the protection of press freedom from, among other things, a draconian order in the offing. Other professional organizations are mulling all means of protest short of thronging the streets, which, of course, they have not ruled out.
In yet another sign of a return to normalcy, senior politicians have begun visits to India for consultations with exiled colleagues, Maoist leaders and – not too surprisingly—influential Indian personalities. (At least those who have not been turned back from the airport.) All this suggests that the royal regime may be in its final breaths, right?
Not quite. The mainstream parties have not been able to inject credibility into their claim of forging an alliance with the Maoists. King Gyanendra has long dismissed such threats as “pressure tactics” and the parties have done little to prove him wrong.
Forget the congenitally republican communist parties in the mainstream. The key question here is whether the Nepali Congress would abandon its faith in constitutional monarchy and go all out for a republican agenda.
Over the decades, the party has thrived on perpetuating the myth that Nepal’s monarchy somehow owes its existence to the democrats’ magnanimity. The monarchy, moreover, proved to be a vital cushion when the party was in power. Blind royal assent of its policies meant firm adherence to the principles of constitutional monarchy. When the monarch sought clarifications on critical national issues, it represented unwarranted royal interference.
Indeed, if the rank and file shares Nepali Congress President Girija Prasad Koirala’s contention that the monarchy has been at the root of Nepal instability, then a republican alliance with the Maoists should not be difficult to reach. After all, this is a party that tried to assassinate two kings in the 1960s and 70s.
The Maoists, for their part, remain skillful practitioners of realpolitik. Having succeeded in exploiting rifts within political parties and between mainstream parties and the palace over the years, they are now getting a taste of their own medicine. Maoist supremo Prachanda, weeks after justifying the disciplinary action he had taken against chief ideologue Baburam Bhattarai, suddenly dispatched his nemesis to read the pulse of the Indian establishment. Lest we read too much into the turnaround, Prachanda replaced Dr. Bhattarai with confidante Krishna Bahadur Mahara as president of the underground Maoist government.
Vacillation is a term few associated with the Maoists until recently. But, then, who knows what kind of possibilities this unpredictability can throw open. Dr. Bhattarai, whose mastery of the language has dignified the Maoists’ pursuit of crass convenience, urged a BBC Radio interviewer not to take politicians’ public utterances too literally. Translation: the Maoists want to keep open their channels of communication with the palace, too.
As for broad-based consultations with external powers he has so long demonized, Dr. Bhattarai is too erudite a student of history. The United States ended up supporting the Khmer Rouge, after it became the dominant partner of a coalition in exile. Pol Pot may go down in history as one of the worst mass murderers. His henchmen – from Hun Sen downwards – dominate the leadership of today’s democratic Cambodia.
In successive public pronouncements, King Gyanendra appears firm on carrying through the agenda he unveiled in the Feb. 1 proclamation taking over full executive powers. Terms like globalization, free trade, knowledge-based society are primarily coming from an institution that has been reviled as the most archaic in Nepal.
Critics often wonder why a king committed to reactivating a multiparty democracy attuned to the challenge and opportunities of the 21st century can be so dismissive of the political leadership.
Because he sees a distinction between the message and the messengers. Now, Dr. Rice, isn’t that clear as crystal?
June 3, 2005
The most levelheaded assessment of Nepal’s current crisis has come from US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. In a delayed disclosure, US Ambassador to Nepal James F. Moriarty last week quoted Madam Secretary as saying that what King Gyanendra had done would “crystallize” events.
Some of the cloudiness has begun to lift. Seven mainstream parties have begun what they call a final fight for full democracy. In a clear application of the pre-emption doctrine, their student wings have vowed to resist the royal government’s plan to rewrite the school curriculum along “nationalistic” lines. Journalists, too, are out on the streets for the protection of press freedom from, among other things, a draconian order in the offing. Other professional organizations are mulling all means of protest short of thronging the streets, which, of course, they have not ruled out.
In yet another sign of a return to normalcy, senior politicians have begun visits to India for consultations with exiled colleagues, Maoist leaders and – not too surprisingly—influential Indian personalities. (At least those who have not been turned back from the airport.) All this suggests that the royal regime may be in its final breaths, right?
Not quite. The mainstream parties have not been able to inject credibility into their claim of forging an alliance with the Maoists. King Gyanendra has long dismissed such threats as “pressure tactics” and the parties have done little to prove him wrong.
Forget the congenitally republican communist parties in the mainstream. The key question here is whether the Nepali Congress would abandon its faith in constitutional monarchy and go all out for a republican agenda.
Over the decades, the party has thrived on perpetuating the myth that Nepal’s monarchy somehow owes its existence to the democrats’ magnanimity. The monarchy, moreover, proved to be a vital cushion when the party was in power. Blind royal assent of its policies meant firm adherence to the principles of constitutional monarchy. When the monarch sought clarifications on critical national issues, it represented unwarranted royal interference.
Indeed, if the rank and file shares Nepali Congress President Girija Prasad Koirala’s contention that the monarchy has been at the root of Nepal instability, then a republican alliance with the Maoists should not be difficult to reach. After all, this is a party that tried to assassinate two kings in the 1960s and 70s.
The Maoists, for their part, remain skillful practitioners of realpolitik. Having succeeded in exploiting rifts within political parties and between mainstream parties and the palace over the years, they are now getting a taste of their own medicine. Maoist supremo Prachanda, weeks after justifying the disciplinary action he had taken against chief ideologue Baburam Bhattarai, suddenly dispatched his nemesis to read the pulse of the Indian establishment. Lest we read too much into the turnaround, Prachanda replaced Dr. Bhattarai with confidante Krishna Bahadur Mahara as president of the underground Maoist government.
Vacillation is a term few associated with the Maoists until recently. But, then, who knows what kind of possibilities this unpredictability can throw open. Dr. Bhattarai, whose mastery of the language has dignified the Maoists’ pursuit of crass convenience, urged a BBC Radio interviewer not to take politicians’ public utterances too literally. Translation: the Maoists want to keep open their channels of communication with the palace, too.
As for broad-based consultations with external powers he has so long demonized, Dr. Bhattarai is too erudite a student of history. The United States ended up supporting the Khmer Rouge, after it became the dominant partner of a coalition in exile. Pol Pot may go down in history as one of the worst mass murderers. His henchmen – from Hun Sen downwards – dominate the leadership of today’s democratic Cambodia.
In successive public pronouncements, King Gyanendra appears firm on carrying through the agenda he unveiled in the Feb. 1 proclamation taking over full executive powers. Terms like globalization, free trade, knowledge-based society are primarily coming from an institution that has been reviled as the most archaic in Nepal.
Critics often wonder why a king committed to reactivating a multiparty democracy attuned to the challenge and opportunities of the 21st century can be so dismissive of the political leadership.
Because he sees a distinction between the message and the messengers. Now, Dr. Rice, isn’t that clear as crystal?
Nepal And India: Conundrum Of Closeness
By Sanjay Upadhya
May 24, 2005
The much-extolled close relationship between Nepal and India has unmasked the conundrum that it is. A shared religious, cultural and social heritage has been at the core of these “special relations,” a term New Delhi prefers, often to the consternation of Nepalis. The complexities of the relationship have now come to define deliberations.
India’s flip-flop on the political crisis in Nepal is emblematic of the contradictions that lurked beneath the surface. In the immediate aftermath of the royal takeover, India took a hard-line against King Gyanendra’s regime. New Delhi pulled out of a South Asian summit in Bangladesh, officially citing the security situation in the host country. The move, however, underlined India’s intention to avoid granting legitimacy to the monarch, who in his twin role as head of government would have attended the conference. The Indian government’s decision to suspend military aid proved more problematic.
As the world’s most populous democracy, India was naturally predisposed to react the way it did. India’s displeasure with the palace’s effort to marginalize major political parties was evident in subsequent comments. Politicians of all Nepalese mainstream parties have an affinity with India. Some participated in the Indian independence movement as student activists. Others spent years in exile in Indian cities while political parties remained banned between 1960 and 1990.
Indeed, India’s “setback to democracy” refrain has a larger relevance. A claimant to a permanent seat on the United Nations Security Council could not have broken ranks with the three veto-wielding western democracies: United States, Britain and France.
The ‘specialness’ of bilateral ties immediately posed a problem. India insists that Nepal is treaty bound to request New Delhi for any military assistance. Going by that interpretation, India’s voluntary arms embargo would free Nepal from a menacing element of the relationship. The fear of China or Pakistan stepping into vacuum injected some realism in New Delhi. The meeting in Jakarta between King Gyanendra and Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh brought some clarity to bilateral relations, but not much. Depending on which Indian official one turned to, arms supplies were either under constant review or already on their way to the Royal Nepalese Army arsenal.
Clearly, the Indian government is deeply split over Nepal. The Ministry of External Affairs saw a hard-line against the palace as a way of bolstering its democratic credentials globally and an opportunity to boost its credibility among Nepalis suspicious of Indian intentions. The Ministries of Defense and Home Affairs believed an arms embargo on the kingdom would strengthen the hands of the Maoists rebels fighting to overthrow the monarchy – and, by extension, their Indian allies. Intelligence reports say armed Indian Maoists groups have a presence in 170 districts in 15 states of India, suggesting they may pose a greater threat to Indian security than the Kashmir insurgents do.
Each of the ruling alliance members in New Delhi had their own fraternal constituencies in Nepal. The communists were the most vocal critics of Prime Minister Singh’s assurance to King Gyanendra on a resumption of military supplies. As supporters of the government from outside, the communists’ made their political intentions clear. When Prime Minister Singh’s government tried to appease the communists, the Indian army started getting jittery. Indian Army chief Gen. J.J. Singh, who turned down an invitation to visit the kingdom days after the palace takeover, felt the politicians in the Home and Defense Ministries were more concerned about their own political turf. Apparently, he went directly to Prime Minister Singh’s national security adviser pleading for a lifting of the embargo. Dipping morale among 40,000 Nepalese serving in the Indian army, together with the imperative of preserving deep links with the Royal Nepalese Army forced Gen. Singh into action.
The royal government, too, mobilized an important Indian constituency: the grass-roots Hindu nationalist groups backing the main opposition Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). Although the BJP was understandably hesitant to publicly back the palace takeover, it allowed leading MPs to voice their views. To the faithful flock, an atheist communist assault on the very existence of the world’s only Hindu kingdom was no small matter.
There is another constituency that can be expected to grow more vociferous in support of engagement with the royal regime: India’s business community. A leading entrepreneur closely associated with business interests of Nepal’s royal family has just been elected head of the influential Confederation of Indian Industry.
In a rare flourish of candor, Indian journalist Kuldip Nayar recently wrote on how India has always been riding two boats, one of the king and the other of political parties. “We have played one against the other for our own interest and seen to it that neither of the two emerges so strong that it does not need us,” he added. That in essence has been India’s twin-pillar policy. Accordingly, New Delhi continues engagement with the royal regime while backing the opposition alliance. The Royal Nepalese Army, apparently irked by the ambiguity surrounding the arms supplies, uncovered a third element. At a news conference last week, it came out with a tape recording purportedly showing India’s intention to open conditional direct talks with the Nepalese rebels.
India’s jugglery of factional interests in Nepal will undoubtedly continue to masquerade as coherent policy. This time Nepal seems to be in a mood of reciprocity, having borrowed some pages from its giant southern neighbor’s playbook.
May 24, 2005
The much-extolled close relationship between Nepal and India has unmasked the conundrum that it is. A shared religious, cultural and social heritage has been at the core of these “special relations,” a term New Delhi prefers, often to the consternation of Nepalis. The complexities of the relationship have now come to define deliberations.
India’s flip-flop on the political crisis in Nepal is emblematic of the contradictions that lurked beneath the surface. In the immediate aftermath of the royal takeover, India took a hard-line against King Gyanendra’s regime. New Delhi pulled out of a South Asian summit in Bangladesh, officially citing the security situation in the host country. The move, however, underlined India’s intention to avoid granting legitimacy to the monarch, who in his twin role as head of government would have attended the conference. The Indian government’s decision to suspend military aid proved more problematic.
As the world’s most populous democracy, India was naturally predisposed to react the way it did. India’s displeasure with the palace’s effort to marginalize major political parties was evident in subsequent comments. Politicians of all Nepalese mainstream parties have an affinity with India. Some participated in the Indian independence movement as student activists. Others spent years in exile in Indian cities while political parties remained banned between 1960 and 1990.
Indeed, India’s “setback to democracy” refrain has a larger relevance. A claimant to a permanent seat on the United Nations Security Council could not have broken ranks with the three veto-wielding western democracies: United States, Britain and France.
The ‘specialness’ of bilateral ties immediately posed a problem. India insists that Nepal is treaty bound to request New Delhi for any military assistance. Going by that interpretation, India’s voluntary arms embargo would free Nepal from a menacing element of the relationship. The fear of China or Pakistan stepping into vacuum injected some realism in New Delhi. The meeting in Jakarta between King Gyanendra and Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh brought some clarity to bilateral relations, but not much. Depending on which Indian official one turned to, arms supplies were either under constant review or already on their way to the Royal Nepalese Army arsenal.
Clearly, the Indian government is deeply split over Nepal. The Ministry of External Affairs saw a hard-line against the palace as a way of bolstering its democratic credentials globally and an opportunity to boost its credibility among Nepalis suspicious of Indian intentions. The Ministries of Defense and Home Affairs believed an arms embargo on the kingdom would strengthen the hands of the Maoists rebels fighting to overthrow the monarchy – and, by extension, their Indian allies. Intelligence reports say armed Indian Maoists groups have a presence in 170 districts in 15 states of India, suggesting they may pose a greater threat to Indian security than the Kashmir insurgents do.
Each of the ruling alliance members in New Delhi had their own fraternal constituencies in Nepal. The communists were the most vocal critics of Prime Minister Singh’s assurance to King Gyanendra on a resumption of military supplies. As supporters of the government from outside, the communists’ made their political intentions clear. When Prime Minister Singh’s government tried to appease the communists, the Indian army started getting jittery. Indian Army chief Gen. J.J. Singh, who turned down an invitation to visit the kingdom days after the palace takeover, felt the politicians in the Home and Defense Ministries were more concerned about their own political turf. Apparently, he went directly to Prime Minister Singh’s national security adviser pleading for a lifting of the embargo. Dipping morale among 40,000 Nepalese serving in the Indian army, together with the imperative of preserving deep links with the Royal Nepalese Army forced Gen. Singh into action.
The royal government, too, mobilized an important Indian constituency: the grass-roots Hindu nationalist groups backing the main opposition Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). Although the BJP was understandably hesitant to publicly back the palace takeover, it allowed leading MPs to voice their views. To the faithful flock, an atheist communist assault on the very existence of the world’s only Hindu kingdom was no small matter.
There is another constituency that can be expected to grow more vociferous in support of engagement with the royal regime: India’s business community. A leading entrepreneur closely associated with business interests of Nepal’s royal family has just been elected head of the influential Confederation of Indian Industry.
In a rare flourish of candor, Indian journalist Kuldip Nayar recently wrote on how India has always been riding two boats, one of the king and the other of political parties. “We have played one against the other for our own interest and seen to it that neither of the two emerges so strong that it does not need us,” he added. That in essence has been India’s twin-pillar policy. Accordingly, New Delhi continues engagement with the royal regime while backing the opposition alliance. The Royal Nepalese Army, apparently irked by the ambiguity surrounding the arms supplies, uncovered a third element. At a news conference last week, it came out with a tape recording purportedly showing India’s intention to open conditional direct talks with the Nepalese rebels.
India’s jugglery of factional interests in Nepal will undoubtedly continue to masquerade as coherent policy. This time Nepal seems to be in a mood of reciprocity, having borrowed some pages from its giant southern neighbor’s playbook.
Nepal: Perils Of International Ambivalence
By Sanjay Upadhya
April 19, 2005
Amid a paralyzing internal political standoff and palpable international ambivalence, revenge killings sparked by vigilante justice threaten to accelerate Nepal’s slide into chaos.
Political parties, still haunted by their three-decade marginalization by an all-powerful palace that ended in 1990, are perhaps naturally inclined to see every step of an assertive monarch as “regressive”. Their stance, while understandable, is nonetheless unsettling. Even the worst critics of King Gyanendra’s February 1 takeover of full executive powers, after all, cannot deny that Nepal needs to be lifted from its worst crisis in history.
To be sure, there is enough blame to go around. The country could have continued its endless debate on the best course of action against the raging Maoist insurgency. But for how long before all the interlocutors were consumed by the conflagration?
While much of the world has denounced King Gyanendra’s assumption of full executive powers, key capitals still seem busy weighing the wider impact of the monarch’s action against the longer term implications of a consummation of the first communist revolution since the end of the cold war. Pronouncements on isolating the royal regime by cutting off all forms of assistance are challenged from within by pleas for engagement with the palace to save Nepal and stabilize South Asia.
The king, for his part, has set out to reactive the democratic process by announcing elections to municipal bodies within a year. He has reinstated the posts of zonal commissioners in an effort to streamline the central administration’s control and coordination in the districts, where the insurgency is most virulent. The appointment of zonal commissioners, considered pillars of the partyless Panchayat system, has brought back bitter memories in the democracy camp, many constituents of which remember them as tools with which the palace enforced its rule. What must not be lost sight of, however, is the fact that former prime minister Girija Prasad Koirala, the king’s fiercest democratic critic, not long ago conceded that zonal commissioners were one of the few features of partyless rule that worked and should not have been scrapped. His point that the absence of such a mechanism was partly to blame for an effective early counterinsurgency operation is worth remembering.
The leaders of the major political parties see the recent moves as part of a “conspiracy” to legitimize the royal takeover. Their call for a common agenda against the palace’s attempt to regain the power it lost in 1990 has drowned sane pleas from within their ranks for conciliation. Clearly, the obsession with the notion that a monarchy genuinely seeking a more constructive role in governance is somehow at the root of Nepal’s problems stands in the way of a settlement.
In immediate terms, the state of emergency, detention of political leaders and imposition of censorship, among other things, have limited Nepal’s room for engagement with its international friends.
While some of them are being loosened, these restrictions need to be lifted in tandem with signs of improvements in the security situation before the restoration of the democratic process can begin. The reactivation of democratic institutions – through municipal polls and then ultimately national elections within the three-year time frame laid out by the king—would depend on the cooperation of political parties and the Maoists. Both are facing their own moments of truth. The demand for a leadership change is gaining ground in all three major mainstream parties: the Nepali Congress, the breakaway Nepali Congress (Democratic) and the United Marxist Leninists. Younger leaders are becoming more vociferous in demanding, among other things, changes in the parties’ internal functioning and a re-examination of the relationship between the leadership and the people. Efforts to reunite the two Congress factions have gained pace.
The Maoists, who successfully exploited divisions in the mainstream parties, now find themselves mired in their own conflict.
Indications of a moderate-hardliner split were sufficiently evident during the two failed peace talks in 2001 and 2003. After the royal takeover, government and security officials have been claiming that the rifts have deepened to the point where battles between rebel ranks could break out any moment. Even if the split between Maoist supremo Prachanda and the party’s chief ideologue, Dr. Baburam Bhattarai, is not as damaging as the official line suggests, recent pronouncements by both men signal some level of serious discord.
This churning process within the mainstream parties and the insurgents would have to run its course before its impact on the national scene can be gauged. The international community does not have the luxury of time. What the Maoists represent may be a historically discredited ideology. In Nepal, mired in deepening inequalities of all kind, it retains its luster. The message and method of the rebels are two different things that need to be seen for what they are. Specifically, the rebels’ shrewdness for ambiguity must be taken more seriously. Addressing the Nepalese people and the political parties, Prachanda has appealed for support for the Maoists’ campaign for “full democracy” through “the twin objectives of a constituent assembly and a multiparty people’s republic.”
To an international audience, Prachanda has described his “People’s War” as “a totally new 21st century war [also against] the evil of the imperialist world, the hypocrisy of so-called democracy that a superpower like the U.S. represents.” (TIMEAsia, April 25, 2005).
A state on the verge of failure gripped by an ideologically driven agenda for international struggle—could the perils of the world’s ambivalence be any clearer?
April 19, 2005
Amid a paralyzing internal political standoff and palpable international ambivalence, revenge killings sparked by vigilante justice threaten to accelerate Nepal’s slide into chaos.
Political parties, still haunted by their three-decade marginalization by an all-powerful palace that ended in 1990, are perhaps naturally inclined to see every step of an assertive monarch as “regressive”. Their stance, while understandable, is nonetheless unsettling. Even the worst critics of King Gyanendra’s February 1 takeover of full executive powers, after all, cannot deny that Nepal needs to be lifted from its worst crisis in history.
To be sure, there is enough blame to go around. The country could have continued its endless debate on the best course of action against the raging Maoist insurgency. But for how long before all the interlocutors were consumed by the conflagration?
While much of the world has denounced King Gyanendra’s assumption of full executive powers, key capitals still seem busy weighing the wider impact of the monarch’s action against the longer term implications of a consummation of the first communist revolution since the end of the cold war. Pronouncements on isolating the royal regime by cutting off all forms of assistance are challenged from within by pleas for engagement with the palace to save Nepal and stabilize South Asia.
The king, for his part, has set out to reactive the democratic process by announcing elections to municipal bodies within a year. He has reinstated the posts of zonal commissioners in an effort to streamline the central administration’s control and coordination in the districts, where the insurgency is most virulent. The appointment of zonal commissioners, considered pillars of the partyless Panchayat system, has brought back bitter memories in the democracy camp, many constituents of which remember them as tools with which the palace enforced its rule. What must not be lost sight of, however, is the fact that former prime minister Girija Prasad Koirala, the king’s fiercest democratic critic, not long ago conceded that zonal commissioners were one of the few features of partyless rule that worked and should not have been scrapped. His point that the absence of such a mechanism was partly to blame for an effective early counterinsurgency operation is worth remembering.
The leaders of the major political parties see the recent moves as part of a “conspiracy” to legitimize the royal takeover. Their call for a common agenda against the palace’s attempt to regain the power it lost in 1990 has drowned sane pleas from within their ranks for conciliation. Clearly, the obsession with the notion that a monarchy genuinely seeking a more constructive role in governance is somehow at the root of Nepal’s problems stands in the way of a settlement.
In immediate terms, the state of emergency, detention of political leaders and imposition of censorship, among other things, have limited Nepal’s room for engagement with its international friends.
While some of them are being loosened, these restrictions need to be lifted in tandem with signs of improvements in the security situation before the restoration of the democratic process can begin. The reactivation of democratic institutions – through municipal polls and then ultimately national elections within the three-year time frame laid out by the king—would depend on the cooperation of political parties and the Maoists. Both are facing their own moments of truth. The demand for a leadership change is gaining ground in all three major mainstream parties: the Nepali Congress, the breakaway Nepali Congress (Democratic) and the United Marxist Leninists. Younger leaders are becoming more vociferous in demanding, among other things, changes in the parties’ internal functioning and a re-examination of the relationship between the leadership and the people. Efforts to reunite the two Congress factions have gained pace.
The Maoists, who successfully exploited divisions in the mainstream parties, now find themselves mired in their own conflict.
Indications of a moderate-hardliner split were sufficiently evident during the two failed peace talks in 2001 and 2003. After the royal takeover, government and security officials have been claiming that the rifts have deepened to the point where battles between rebel ranks could break out any moment. Even if the split between Maoist supremo Prachanda and the party’s chief ideologue, Dr. Baburam Bhattarai, is not as damaging as the official line suggests, recent pronouncements by both men signal some level of serious discord.
This churning process within the mainstream parties and the insurgents would have to run its course before its impact on the national scene can be gauged. The international community does not have the luxury of time. What the Maoists represent may be a historically discredited ideology. In Nepal, mired in deepening inequalities of all kind, it retains its luster. The message and method of the rebels are two different things that need to be seen for what they are. Specifically, the rebels’ shrewdness for ambiguity must be taken more seriously. Addressing the Nepalese people and the political parties, Prachanda has appealed for support for the Maoists’ campaign for “full democracy” through “the twin objectives of a constituent assembly and a multiparty people’s republic.”
To an international audience, Prachanda has described his “People’s War” as “a totally new 21st century war [also against] the evil of the imperialist world, the hypocrisy of so-called democracy that a superpower like the U.S. represents.” (TIMEAsia, April 25, 2005).
A state on the verge of failure gripped by an ideologically driven agenda for international struggle—could the perils of the world’s ambivalence be any clearer?
Pulling Nepal Back From The Precipice
By Sanjay Upadhya
April 13, 2005
Having endured scathing criticism from much of the world for his February 1 decision to take direct control of the government, Nepal’s King Gyanendra now has a special opportunity to present his case on the sidelines of two major regional forums later this month.
The monarch is scheduled to participate in the 50th anniversary commemorations of the Asian-African summit, considered by many the precursor to the Non-Aligned Movement, on April 22-23 in Bangdung, Indonesia. The following day he is to arrive in Boao, in the Chinese province of Hainan, to attend what is described as the Asian equivalent of the Davos economic forum.
The stakes for the Nepalese entourage could not be higher. The detention of political leaders, declaration of a state of emergency, and imposition of harsh censorship has isolated the royal government. Britain and India have suspended military aid to help fight the nine-year-old Maoist insurgency, which has claimed close to 12,000 lives, while the United States is mulling similar action.
Nordic governments have announced a freeze in further development assistance until democracy is restored. The Royal Nepalese Army has come under heavy criticism at the United Nations Commission for Human Rights in Geneva over reports of abuses during its counterinsurgency operations.
The government remains defiant amid the international outcry. In a televised address to the nation on February 1, King Gyanendra justified his takeover, saying the political parties had misgoverned the country since the restoration of democracy in 1990 and blaming them for the rise of the Maoists. He said he needed three years to restore peace, put democracy back on track, and hold fresh elections. He asserted that he needed to suspend civil liberties to focus on the fight against the insurgents. That continues to be the message coming from senior Nepalese ministers and officials.
Predictably, the estranged political parties have decided to mount active resistance against the royal government, which is reminiscent of their conduct during the last opportunity Nepal had to restore peace. In 2003, the mainstream parties, while continuing to voice support for a favorable outcome in the government-Maoist negotiations that were under way, focused their energy on confrontation with the palace, which had just stepped into day-to-day politics for the first time in 12 years. While blaming the obstinacy of the palace-appointed government and “foreign powers” for the collapse of the peace process, the Maoists also lashed out against the mainstream parties’ demand to restore parliament and introduce reforms through amendments “to the old moribund constitution” they had declared war against.
The Maoists, who rebuffed subsequent governments’ peace overtures by insisting they would only talk directly with the king, evidently see in the current crisis an opportunity to mount their much-vaunted strategic offensive against what they consider a tottering state. The government, for its part, appears determined to inflict a decisive blow on the rebels in an effort to force them to the negotiating table.
How far the military’s recent battlefield victories against the Maoists and reports of a deepening schism within rebel ranks will change the dynamics of the nine-year-old conflict remains unclear. There are ominous signs the international community must not ignore. In parts of the country, armed villagers have begun attacking those they suspect of being Maoists. The rebels, for their part, have retaliated against those they consider state-sponsored vigilantes. Amid the mayhem, thousands of villagers have fled across Nepal’s southern border into India.
Regional alignments have been rapidly shifting. India’s initial tough response to the royal takeover, including its decision to halt military assistance, has given way to a sobering recognition in political, diplomatic and academic circles in New Delhi of the possibility of China and Pakistan stepping into the vacuum. Earlier this month, Chinese Foreign Minister Li Zhaoxing became the highest ranking foreign leader to visit the kingdom since the royal takeover. In the aftermath of Li’s visit, Nepalese and Chinese officials have stepped up deliberations on various sectors – from transportation to trade—signaling a desire on both sides to offset the kingdom’s traditional dependence on India. Before Li’s visit, Nepal and Pakistan held their first joint economic commission meeting in 10 years. Islamabad extended a $5 million credit line for boosting the kingdom’s industrial and commercial development and growth and has promised to provide military assistance if requested.
In the midst of these fast-moving events, a credible roadmap for renewal has become all the more urgent. Restoring the status quo ante cannot lay the basis for an effective agenda for change. The sturdiness of democratic institutions can be ensured only by restoring the people’s faith in them. Theoretically, elected representatives can provide people-oriented governance, but the Maoists have vowed to sabotage fresh elections. The restoration of parliament, dissolved three years ago by an elected prime minister exercising his constitutional prerogative, has been advanced as a way out of the crisis. Indeed, such a move may provide the framework for creating a broad-based government. Considering the skirmishes and deadlock successive sessions of parliament have witnessed in past years, advocates of this option need to be more forthright on how a broad-based government would develop a political, security and socio-economic strategy to address the insurgency and the underlying issues.
To the extent that a reform agenda has been formulated, it is centered on constitutional changes to limit royal powers, ensure civilian control over the military, and codify the supremacy of parliament over the palace. Blaming the current crisis on royal assertiveness would be a monumental abdication of responsibility by the other principal players. If the political mainstream and sections of civil society are so convinced that the palace is indeed the problem, then a more credible approach would be deliberations with the Maoists on the structures and sustenance of a republican Nepal. A constitutional monarchy that would exist merely to bear silent witness to the partisan politics of the day is not what Nepal needs.
King Gyanendra has put his throne on the line at a time when Nepal is facing the most serious crisis of its 237-year existence. This is an opportunity for the Nepalese people and their international well-wishers to launch efforts to pull the kingdom back from the precipice. The obsession with viewing the king’s intervention as little more than a palace power grab will not help such efforts.
April 13, 2005
Having endured scathing criticism from much of the world for his February 1 decision to take direct control of the government, Nepal’s King Gyanendra now has a special opportunity to present his case on the sidelines of two major regional forums later this month.
The monarch is scheduled to participate in the 50th anniversary commemorations of the Asian-African summit, considered by many the precursor to the Non-Aligned Movement, on April 22-23 in Bangdung, Indonesia. The following day he is to arrive in Boao, in the Chinese province of Hainan, to attend what is described as the Asian equivalent of the Davos economic forum.
The stakes for the Nepalese entourage could not be higher. The detention of political leaders, declaration of a state of emergency, and imposition of harsh censorship has isolated the royal government. Britain and India have suspended military aid to help fight the nine-year-old Maoist insurgency, which has claimed close to 12,000 lives, while the United States is mulling similar action.
Nordic governments have announced a freeze in further development assistance until democracy is restored. The Royal Nepalese Army has come under heavy criticism at the United Nations Commission for Human Rights in Geneva over reports of abuses during its counterinsurgency operations.
The government remains defiant amid the international outcry. In a televised address to the nation on February 1, King Gyanendra justified his takeover, saying the political parties had misgoverned the country since the restoration of democracy in 1990 and blaming them for the rise of the Maoists. He said he needed three years to restore peace, put democracy back on track, and hold fresh elections. He asserted that he needed to suspend civil liberties to focus on the fight against the insurgents. That continues to be the message coming from senior Nepalese ministers and officials.
Predictably, the estranged political parties have decided to mount active resistance against the royal government, which is reminiscent of their conduct during the last opportunity Nepal had to restore peace. In 2003, the mainstream parties, while continuing to voice support for a favorable outcome in the government-Maoist negotiations that were under way, focused their energy on confrontation with the palace, which had just stepped into day-to-day politics for the first time in 12 years. While blaming the obstinacy of the palace-appointed government and “foreign powers” for the collapse of the peace process, the Maoists also lashed out against the mainstream parties’ demand to restore parliament and introduce reforms through amendments “to the old moribund constitution” they had declared war against.
The Maoists, who rebuffed subsequent governments’ peace overtures by insisting they would only talk directly with the king, evidently see in the current crisis an opportunity to mount their much-vaunted strategic offensive against what they consider a tottering state. The government, for its part, appears determined to inflict a decisive blow on the rebels in an effort to force them to the negotiating table.
How far the military’s recent battlefield victories against the Maoists and reports of a deepening schism within rebel ranks will change the dynamics of the nine-year-old conflict remains unclear. There are ominous signs the international community must not ignore. In parts of the country, armed villagers have begun attacking those they suspect of being Maoists. The rebels, for their part, have retaliated against those they consider state-sponsored vigilantes. Amid the mayhem, thousands of villagers have fled across Nepal’s southern border into India.
Regional alignments have been rapidly shifting. India’s initial tough response to the royal takeover, including its decision to halt military assistance, has given way to a sobering recognition in political, diplomatic and academic circles in New Delhi of the possibility of China and Pakistan stepping into the vacuum. Earlier this month, Chinese Foreign Minister Li Zhaoxing became the highest ranking foreign leader to visit the kingdom since the royal takeover. In the aftermath of Li’s visit, Nepalese and Chinese officials have stepped up deliberations on various sectors – from transportation to trade—signaling a desire on both sides to offset the kingdom’s traditional dependence on India. Before Li’s visit, Nepal and Pakistan held their first joint economic commission meeting in 10 years. Islamabad extended a $5 million credit line for boosting the kingdom’s industrial and commercial development and growth and has promised to provide military assistance if requested.
In the midst of these fast-moving events, a credible roadmap for renewal has become all the more urgent. Restoring the status quo ante cannot lay the basis for an effective agenda for change. The sturdiness of democratic institutions can be ensured only by restoring the people’s faith in them. Theoretically, elected representatives can provide people-oriented governance, but the Maoists have vowed to sabotage fresh elections. The restoration of parliament, dissolved three years ago by an elected prime minister exercising his constitutional prerogative, has been advanced as a way out of the crisis. Indeed, such a move may provide the framework for creating a broad-based government. Considering the skirmishes and deadlock successive sessions of parliament have witnessed in past years, advocates of this option need to be more forthright on how a broad-based government would develop a political, security and socio-economic strategy to address the insurgency and the underlying issues.
To the extent that a reform agenda has been formulated, it is centered on constitutional changes to limit royal powers, ensure civilian control over the military, and codify the supremacy of parliament over the palace. Blaming the current crisis on royal assertiveness would be a monumental abdication of responsibility by the other principal players. If the political mainstream and sections of civil society are so convinced that the palace is indeed the problem, then a more credible approach would be deliberations with the Maoists on the structures and sustenance of a republican Nepal. A constitutional monarchy that would exist merely to bear silent witness to the partisan politics of the day is not what Nepal needs.
King Gyanendra has put his throne on the line at a time when Nepal is facing the most serious crisis of its 237-year existence. This is an opportunity for the Nepalese people and their international well-wishers to launch efforts to pull the kingdom back from the precipice. The obsession with viewing the king’s intervention as little more than a palace power grab will not help such efforts.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Nepal: Between The Dragon And The Peacock
By Sanjay Upadhya
December 19, 2005
Having been upstaged by China at two Asian forums in as many months, strategic thinkers and policy analysts in New Delhi have begun deliberating in public what they surely must have been counseling in private for some time.
Despite the subsequent gloss provided by Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh, China’s inclusion as an observer in the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation at last month’s summit in Dhaka came against the wishes of India. The sop of tagging Tokyo as a fellow observer in the forum does not seem to have soothed New Delhi’s anxieties.
While Nepal emerged as the convenient whipping boy for India, having linked Afghanistan’s full membership to observer status for China, New Delhi could not have been oblivious to the support Kathmandu’s position enjoyed in Islamabad, Colombo and Dhaka. After his Dhaka “gesture”, King Gyanendra was presented with a 12-point accord between the mainstream parties and Maoist rebels that had been in the works in New Delhi for quite some time. To what extent the Indian government is officially prepared to advance that platform to tame the “wayward” monarch remains unclear. At least in public, Indian Foreign Secretary Shyam Saran sounded a conciliatory note during his three-day visit to Kathmandu earlier this month. As the full range of India’s options in what it has long considered its exclusive sphere of influence was being debated, New Delhi got another view of China’s growing regional clout. At the East Asian Summit in Kuala Lumpur earlier this month, Beijing succeeded in keeping the U.S. out of the forum and in preventing India, Australia and New Zealand from playing a central role in propelling the region’s economic integration.
Worse, from New Delhi’s perspective, Beijing wants future East Asian summits to be confined to Asean+3—South Korea, Japan and itself. In the words of the Indian Express, these developments show that China has acquired a veto over future economic and political arrangements in Asia, something India needs to respond to urgently.
Such tensions between the regional giants would scarcely have been news to anyone firmly rooted in the realities of the recent upswing in their ties. Beijing and New Delhi have resolved not to let the political differences stand in the way of a robust economic partnership. Even such relationship would contain distinct dimensions of cooperation and competition. Areas of complementarities, such as developing the high-tech sector, would have to be juxtaposed with spheres of rivalries, such as attracting foreign investment.
The Chinese government’s recent announcement that it would revise its national income statistics in line with a recent census is bound to accelerate competition with India. The new figures would establish China firmly as the world’s fourth largest economy. The luster of that distinction alone would be sufficient to attract those without the time or patience for precise details on, say, the cost of capital in China and stock market returns in what is still essentially a state-driven economy.
Coupled with China’s calm but consistent campaign to preempt what it considers U.S.-led efforts at encirclement, the different sub-regions within Asia are bound to become even more conspicuous theaters of Beijing’s engagement.
For Nepal, precariously perched between China and India, these developments have ominously raised the stakes. Following King Gyanendra’s takeover of full executive powers on February 1, Sino-Nepalese relations have acquired unprecedented momentum in different spheres, including military cooperation. Weeks after dispatching 18 truckloads of arms and ammunition to Nepal, China has sent a team from the People’s Liberation Army to the kingdom. Nepal has become an arena where some Indians analysts are tempted to believe they are best positioned to challenge China. The kingdom remains that part of South Asia which has been traditionally most vulnerable to Indian pressures. It is also the least able to resist such pressures.
Since China has stepped up its cooperation with the kingdom with considerable deftness, allowing the Nepalese side to announce and explain new initiatives, India has received few opportunities to publicly voice displeasure at Beijing’s growing involvement. The circuitous route, however, is becoming clearer. India has begun talking about a “reappraisal/rationalization” of trade and transit facilities Nepal has been enjoying. Over time, that posture can be expected to morph into a wider articulation of the consequences of Nepal’s inability to address Indian security concerns.
The last time Nepal incurred India’s wrath for cozying up to China, the kingdom suffered from what was in effect a stifling trade and transit embargo. Whether Nepal has improved its ability to withstand such restrictions 15 years later remains unclear. Judging from the public pronouncements of key palace aides, the royal regime appears no less inclined to fight to the finish.
There is an ominous addition to the dynamics. Madhav Kumar Nepal, general secretary of the Unified Marxist-Leninist party, has emerged as the principal critic of China for its support of an otherwise internationally isolated royal regime. There is a potential for greater instability in the kingdom, should ongoing street protests take an anti-Chinese turn.
For India, such an escalation would no doubt amount to another manifestation of the demonstrators’ desire for total democracy. Whether Nepal can bear the fallout is what Nepalis should really be worrying about.
December 19, 2005
Having been upstaged by China at two Asian forums in as many months, strategic thinkers and policy analysts in New Delhi have begun deliberating in public what they surely must have been counseling in private for some time.
Despite the subsequent gloss provided by Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh, China’s inclusion as an observer in the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation at last month’s summit in Dhaka came against the wishes of India. The sop of tagging Tokyo as a fellow observer in the forum does not seem to have soothed New Delhi’s anxieties.
While Nepal emerged as the convenient whipping boy for India, having linked Afghanistan’s full membership to observer status for China, New Delhi could not have been oblivious to the support Kathmandu’s position enjoyed in Islamabad, Colombo and Dhaka. After his Dhaka “gesture”, King Gyanendra was presented with a 12-point accord between the mainstream parties and Maoist rebels that had been in the works in New Delhi for quite some time. To what extent the Indian government is officially prepared to advance that platform to tame the “wayward” monarch remains unclear. At least in public, Indian Foreign Secretary Shyam Saran sounded a conciliatory note during his three-day visit to Kathmandu earlier this month. As the full range of India’s options in what it has long considered its exclusive sphere of influence was being debated, New Delhi got another view of China’s growing regional clout. At the East Asian Summit in Kuala Lumpur earlier this month, Beijing succeeded in keeping the U.S. out of the forum and in preventing India, Australia and New Zealand from playing a central role in propelling the region’s economic integration.
Worse, from New Delhi’s perspective, Beijing wants future East Asian summits to be confined to Asean+3—South Korea, Japan and itself. In the words of the Indian Express, these developments show that China has acquired a veto over future economic and political arrangements in Asia, something India needs to respond to urgently.
Such tensions between the regional giants would scarcely have been news to anyone firmly rooted in the realities of the recent upswing in their ties. Beijing and New Delhi have resolved not to let the political differences stand in the way of a robust economic partnership. Even such relationship would contain distinct dimensions of cooperation and competition. Areas of complementarities, such as developing the high-tech sector, would have to be juxtaposed with spheres of rivalries, such as attracting foreign investment.
The Chinese government’s recent announcement that it would revise its national income statistics in line with a recent census is bound to accelerate competition with India. The new figures would establish China firmly as the world’s fourth largest economy. The luster of that distinction alone would be sufficient to attract those without the time or patience for precise details on, say, the cost of capital in China and stock market returns in what is still essentially a state-driven economy.
Coupled with China’s calm but consistent campaign to preempt what it considers U.S.-led efforts at encirclement, the different sub-regions within Asia are bound to become even more conspicuous theaters of Beijing’s engagement.
For Nepal, precariously perched between China and India, these developments have ominously raised the stakes. Following King Gyanendra’s takeover of full executive powers on February 1, Sino-Nepalese relations have acquired unprecedented momentum in different spheres, including military cooperation. Weeks after dispatching 18 truckloads of arms and ammunition to Nepal, China has sent a team from the People’s Liberation Army to the kingdom. Nepal has become an arena where some Indians analysts are tempted to believe they are best positioned to challenge China. The kingdom remains that part of South Asia which has been traditionally most vulnerable to Indian pressures. It is also the least able to resist such pressures.
Since China has stepped up its cooperation with the kingdom with considerable deftness, allowing the Nepalese side to announce and explain new initiatives, India has received few opportunities to publicly voice displeasure at Beijing’s growing involvement. The circuitous route, however, is becoming clearer. India has begun talking about a “reappraisal/rationalization” of trade and transit facilities Nepal has been enjoying. Over time, that posture can be expected to morph into a wider articulation of the consequences of Nepal’s inability to address Indian security concerns.
The last time Nepal incurred India’s wrath for cozying up to China, the kingdom suffered from what was in effect a stifling trade and transit embargo. Whether Nepal has improved its ability to withstand such restrictions 15 years later remains unclear. Judging from the public pronouncements of key palace aides, the royal regime appears no less inclined to fight to the finish.
There is an ominous addition to the dynamics. Madhav Kumar Nepal, general secretary of the Unified Marxist-Leninist party, has emerged as the principal critic of China for its support of an otherwise internationally isolated royal regime. There is a potential for greater instability in the kingdom, should ongoing street protests take an anti-Chinese turn.
For India, such an escalation would no doubt amount to another manifestation of the demonstrators’ desire for total democracy. Whether Nepal can bear the fallout is what Nepalis should really be worrying about.
China’s ‘Nepal Card’?
By Sanjay Upadhya
November 29, 2005
A week that began with the Economist magazine attempting to make sense of China’s emerging robust diplomacy—aimed at creating what President Hu Jintao calls a “harmonious world”—ended with one more display of Beijing’s finesse. The Chinese army, according to news reports, escorted eighteen trucks carrying arms and ammunition to Nepal’s border where plain-clothed Nepalese troops took over.
Ever since King Gyanendra dismissed a multiparty government and took over full executive powers in February, sparking strident global condemnation, China has loomed large over the kingdom. India, Nepal’s preponderant neighbor to the south, and Britain responded to the takeover by seeking to ostracize the royal regime. The United States appeared to give the king – who argued he was compelled to act because political parties failed to control a 10-year-old Maoist insurgency—the benefit of the doubt.
Beijing, for its part, refused to criticize King Gyanendra’s takeover, describing it as an internal matter. For the international media, that was tantamount to unqualified support for the monarchy.
When Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao left out Nepal in his South Asian itinerary, the omission was interpreted as evidence of Beijing’s unwillingness to undermine its vital relations with Washington and New Delhi. But Beijing dispatched Foreign Minister Li Zhaoxing to Kathmandu in late March to enhance bilateral relations. The occasion may have been the 50th anniversary of Sino-Nepalese diplomatic ties a period that has seen at least three systemic convulsions in the kingdom – but the implications of Li’s visit were broader.
On the eve of Wen’s arrival in New Delhi in May, Indian officials briefed reporters that Nepal would figure high during his talks with his host, Prime Minister Manmohan Singh. Barely anything of substance figured in news coverage of the talks, as far as events in Nepal were concerned.Since his takeover, King Gyanendra has visited China to attend an economic forum of Asian nations. Unconfirmed reports suggest a formal visit may be on the cards. Several Nepalese ministers and the chief of the Royal Nepalese Army have visited Beijing. A host of delegations at lower levels have exchanged visits, eager to explore newer avenues of cooperation.
Although perennially wary of traditional rivals China and Pakistan seeking to exploit any vacuum in the kingdom, India firmly rallied behind the anti-palace camp. Many Indian analysts were confident that Nepal’s effort to play the “China card” – shorthand for Kathmandu astutely playing off one giant neighbor against the other—was doomed in view of the improvements in Sino-Indian relations.
By the time Nepalese Foreign Minister Ramesh Nath Pandey returned from Beijing in August with a pledge of $12.3 million in Chinese budgetary support, New Delhi had already begun an overt effort to forge an alliance between opposition parties and Maoist insurgents against the palace.
In a significant statement last month, as India stepped up efforts to redraw Nepal’s political alignments, China’s Ambassador in New Delhi, Sun Yuxi, announced his government’s readiness to help India crush its own nagging Maoist insurgencies in several states. Some Indian analysts immediately deciphered the statement as a cover for an intensification of Chinese military support for Nepal’s battle against Maoist insurgents, who draw significant support from allies in India.
When Royal Nepalese Army chief Pyar Jung Thapa, returning from talks in China last month, announced that Beijing had pledged military assistance worth almost a million dollars, Washington, too, began taking a harder line against the palace.
Nepal’s effort earlier this month to have China included in South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation as an observer evidently rattled New Delhi. It prompted Washington, which has been coordinating its policy on the kingdom with India and Britain, to revise its view that the Maoists could not be trusted as a legitimate political force.
U.S. Ambassador James F. Moriarty flew into New Delhi for official consultations, where senior Nepalese leaders were already huddled in negotiations with Maoist rebel leaders through active Indian mediation. Moriarty emerged from talks with Indian officials to say that King Gyanendra had “tough choices” to make and backed efforts to “mainstream” the Maoists.
Moriarty rejected the possibility of China taking advantage of the flux in Nepal, saying Beijing had assured Washington that it wanted Kathmandu to have better relations with New Delhi. Before the full implications of that cryptic assertion could emerge, Chinese military supplies began entering Nepal.
How far those 18 truckloads went in goading Washington to summon Moriarty for consultations remains unclear. A key element of China’s robust diplomacy, however, was on full display. Gestures of Chinese support relating to more sensitive aspects of Nepal’s security and stability have been announced by Kathmandu.
Such discretion has not stopped Nepalese leaders from criticizing China. United Marxist-Leninist general secretary Madhav Kumar Nepal, for instance, has emerged as the principal China critic in recent weeks. Given his central role in the New Delhi conclave, the Chinese could hardly have expected him to express anything inconsistent with India’s views.
What Is China Up To In Nepal?
During India’s trade and transit embargo in 1988-89, China had failed to come in direct support of Nepal. After all, it was Nepal’s decision to buy Chinese arms that had precipitated that embargo. Premier Li Peng arrived on a visit to Nepal as India’s stranglehold was tightening. At a news conference, Li suggested that Nepal resolve its differences with India – an assertion that jolted the palace, which had taken a confrontationist course with New Delhi. Obviously, Beijing was unwilling to jeopardize its warming ties with New Delhi over events in the kingdom. When the embargo morphed into a pro-democracy campaign, the beleaguered palace-led partyless system could hardly have counted on support from Chinese leaders, already on the defensive for their violent suppression of the Tiananmen Square student protests.
In the early 1990s, the perception that China had abandoned Nepal to India’s sphere of influence appeared to deepen as top Chinese leaders became increasingly candid in acknowledging the kingdom’s traditional multifaceted ties with its giant southern neighbor. By mid-decade, as Nepal struggled to sustain multiparty democracy, a sudden shift was palpable. Chinese leaders began describing Nepal’s open border with India as a security threat to their own country. Reports that the Karmapa Lama – widely seen as the third important religious figure in Tibetan Buddhism—had escaped to India via Nepal heightened Chinese concerns.
The spread – and increasing lethality – of the Maoist insurgency in Nepal triggered repeated Chinese condemnation of the espousal of terrorism in the name of Mao Zedong. Having once served as a base for U.S.-armed anti-Chinese Tibetan fighters, moreover, could an unstable Nepal become a staging ground for Muslim Uighur separatists?
A New Paradigm
Changes at the global level had their impact. The post-9/11 period saw a marked improvement in Sino-American ties – in sharp contrast to the tensions that characterized the first nine months of the President George W. Bush’s administration. The Chinese, nevertheless, could not have been oblivious to the return of Cold War-era terms like “containment” and “encirclement” in Washington. By the time Hu Jintao, a former governor of Tibet, became president in 2003, China had already begun boosting ties with Asian, African and Latin American nations, many of which had fallen out of Washington’s favor.
Despite the hysteria gripping certain sections in Washington, China, by most accounts, will remain militarily incapable of blocking the projection of American power. Moreover, China’s economic miracle is fueled by exports; it must maintain acceptable relations with its largest trading partner. So what drives China’s diplomatic ebullience?
A white paper released in Beijing last year offered useful insights. Noting that “new and profound readjustments have taken place in the relations among the world’s major countries,” the paper observed that a confused pattern had emerged. “While cooperating with and seeking support from each other, [these countries] are checking on and competing with each other as well,” it added. Beijing clearly conveyed its desire to use this cooperation-competition paradigm to pursue its perceived interests.
In South Asia, China has been willing to set aside long-running border disputes with India in the interest of building stronger trade and business ties between the two countries. On other issues, such as the recent U.S.-India pact virtually acknowledging New Delhi as the world’s sixth official nuclear power, Chinese media have warned that other powers could make “nuclear exceptions” with their friends and weaken the global non-proliferation regime. Obviously, the message was aimed at audiences both in Washington and New Delhi. In reality, China’s Nepal card – not vice versa – should be of greater interest to all those paying attention to the relentless twists and turns in the kingdom.
November 29, 2005
A week that began with the Economist magazine attempting to make sense of China’s emerging robust diplomacy—aimed at creating what President Hu Jintao calls a “harmonious world”—ended with one more display of Beijing’s finesse. The Chinese army, according to news reports, escorted eighteen trucks carrying arms and ammunition to Nepal’s border where plain-clothed Nepalese troops took over.
Ever since King Gyanendra dismissed a multiparty government and took over full executive powers in February, sparking strident global condemnation, China has loomed large over the kingdom. India, Nepal’s preponderant neighbor to the south, and Britain responded to the takeover by seeking to ostracize the royal regime. The United States appeared to give the king – who argued he was compelled to act because political parties failed to control a 10-year-old Maoist insurgency—the benefit of the doubt.
Beijing, for its part, refused to criticize King Gyanendra’s takeover, describing it as an internal matter. For the international media, that was tantamount to unqualified support for the monarchy.
When Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao left out Nepal in his South Asian itinerary, the omission was interpreted as evidence of Beijing’s unwillingness to undermine its vital relations with Washington and New Delhi. But Beijing dispatched Foreign Minister Li Zhaoxing to Kathmandu in late March to enhance bilateral relations. The occasion may have been the 50th anniversary of Sino-Nepalese diplomatic ties a period that has seen at least three systemic convulsions in the kingdom – but the implications of Li’s visit were broader.
On the eve of Wen’s arrival in New Delhi in May, Indian officials briefed reporters that Nepal would figure high during his talks with his host, Prime Minister Manmohan Singh. Barely anything of substance figured in news coverage of the talks, as far as events in Nepal were concerned.Since his takeover, King Gyanendra has visited China to attend an economic forum of Asian nations. Unconfirmed reports suggest a formal visit may be on the cards. Several Nepalese ministers and the chief of the Royal Nepalese Army have visited Beijing. A host of delegations at lower levels have exchanged visits, eager to explore newer avenues of cooperation.
Although perennially wary of traditional rivals China and Pakistan seeking to exploit any vacuum in the kingdom, India firmly rallied behind the anti-palace camp. Many Indian analysts were confident that Nepal’s effort to play the “China card” – shorthand for Kathmandu astutely playing off one giant neighbor against the other—was doomed in view of the improvements in Sino-Indian relations.
By the time Nepalese Foreign Minister Ramesh Nath Pandey returned from Beijing in August with a pledge of $12.3 million in Chinese budgetary support, New Delhi had already begun an overt effort to forge an alliance between opposition parties and Maoist insurgents against the palace.
In a significant statement last month, as India stepped up efforts to redraw Nepal’s political alignments, China’s Ambassador in New Delhi, Sun Yuxi, announced his government’s readiness to help India crush its own nagging Maoist insurgencies in several states. Some Indian analysts immediately deciphered the statement as a cover for an intensification of Chinese military support for Nepal’s battle against Maoist insurgents, who draw significant support from allies in India.
When Royal Nepalese Army chief Pyar Jung Thapa, returning from talks in China last month, announced that Beijing had pledged military assistance worth almost a million dollars, Washington, too, began taking a harder line against the palace.
Nepal’s effort earlier this month to have China included in South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation as an observer evidently rattled New Delhi. It prompted Washington, which has been coordinating its policy on the kingdom with India and Britain, to revise its view that the Maoists could not be trusted as a legitimate political force.
U.S. Ambassador James F. Moriarty flew into New Delhi for official consultations, where senior Nepalese leaders were already huddled in negotiations with Maoist rebel leaders through active Indian mediation. Moriarty emerged from talks with Indian officials to say that King Gyanendra had “tough choices” to make and backed efforts to “mainstream” the Maoists.
Moriarty rejected the possibility of China taking advantage of the flux in Nepal, saying Beijing had assured Washington that it wanted Kathmandu to have better relations with New Delhi. Before the full implications of that cryptic assertion could emerge, Chinese military supplies began entering Nepal.
How far those 18 truckloads went in goading Washington to summon Moriarty for consultations remains unclear. A key element of China’s robust diplomacy, however, was on full display. Gestures of Chinese support relating to more sensitive aspects of Nepal’s security and stability have been announced by Kathmandu.
Such discretion has not stopped Nepalese leaders from criticizing China. United Marxist-Leninist general secretary Madhav Kumar Nepal, for instance, has emerged as the principal China critic in recent weeks. Given his central role in the New Delhi conclave, the Chinese could hardly have expected him to express anything inconsistent with India’s views.
What Is China Up To In Nepal?
During India’s trade and transit embargo in 1988-89, China had failed to come in direct support of Nepal. After all, it was Nepal’s decision to buy Chinese arms that had precipitated that embargo. Premier Li Peng arrived on a visit to Nepal as India’s stranglehold was tightening. At a news conference, Li suggested that Nepal resolve its differences with India – an assertion that jolted the palace, which had taken a confrontationist course with New Delhi. Obviously, Beijing was unwilling to jeopardize its warming ties with New Delhi over events in the kingdom. When the embargo morphed into a pro-democracy campaign, the beleaguered palace-led partyless system could hardly have counted on support from Chinese leaders, already on the defensive for their violent suppression of the Tiananmen Square student protests.
In the early 1990s, the perception that China had abandoned Nepal to India’s sphere of influence appeared to deepen as top Chinese leaders became increasingly candid in acknowledging the kingdom’s traditional multifaceted ties with its giant southern neighbor. By mid-decade, as Nepal struggled to sustain multiparty democracy, a sudden shift was palpable. Chinese leaders began describing Nepal’s open border with India as a security threat to their own country. Reports that the Karmapa Lama – widely seen as the third important religious figure in Tibetan Buddhism—had escaped to India via Nepal heightened Chinese concerns.
The spread – and increasing lethality – of the Maoist insurgency in Nepal triggered repeated Chinese condemnation of the espousal of terrorism in the name of Mao Zedong. Having once served as a base for U.S.-armed anti-Chinese Tibetan fighters, moreover, could an unstable Nepal become a staging ground for Muslim Uighur separatists?
A New Paradigm
Changes at the global level had their impact. The post-9/11 period saw a marked improvement in Sino-American ties – in sharp contrast to the tensions that characterized the first nine months of the President George W. Bush’s administration. The Chinese, nevertheless, could not have been oblivious to the return of Cold War-era terms like “containment” and “encirclement” in Washington. By the time Hu Jintao, a former governor of Tibet, became president in 2003, China had already begun boosting ties with Asian, African and Latin American nations, many of which had fallen out of Washington’s favor.
Despite the hysteria gripping certain sections in Washington, China, by most accounts, will remain militarily incapable of blocking the projection of American power. Moreover, China’s economic miracle is fueled by exports; it must maintain acceptable relations with its largest trading partner. So what drives China’s diplomatic ebullience?
A white paper released in Beijing last year offered useful insights. Noting that “new and profound readjustments have taken place in the relations among the world’s major countries,” the paper observed that a confused pattern had emerged. “While cooperating with and seeking support from each other, [these countries] are checking on and competing with each other as well,” it added. Beijing clearly conveyed its desire to use this cooperation-competition paradigm to pursue its perceived interests.
In South Asia, China has been willing to set aside long-running border disputes with India in the interest of building stronger trade and business ties between the two countries. On other issues, such as the recent U.S.-India pact virtually acknowledging New Delhi as the world’s sixth official nuclear power, Chinese media have warned that other powers could make “nuclear exceptions” with their friends and weaken the global non-proliferation regime. Obviously, the message was aimed at audiences both in Washington and New Delhi. In reality, China’s Nepal card – not vice versa – should be of greater interest to all those paying attention to the relentless twists and turns in the kingdom.
South Asia 101: Democracy And Geopolitics
By Sanjay Upadhya
November 14, 2005
Before he flew into Dhaka to attend the much-delayed summit of the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation (SAARC), Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh warned of the danger of failed states emerging in the region. Long before he left the Bangladeshi capital, Dr. Singh must have discovered the futility of India’s worry of having to bear the neighborhood’s burdens alone.
Without a seat at the conference table, China had already become part of regional deliberations. India’s “near abroad” had stepped out far ahead in time.
India’s proposal to include Afghanistan as SAARC’s eighth member was expected to sail through – until Nepal stepped in. The Nepalese delegation threatened to veto Afghanistan’s entry unless China was included in the organization as an observer or dialogue partner. The 13th summit of South Asia’s premier grouping already had its share of bad luck. Last year’s tsunami had forced Bangladesh to reschedule the conference for early February. In protest against King Gyanendra’s dismissal of Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba’s multiparty government and takeover of full executive powers, India pulled out of the rescheduled summit.
New Delhi imposed an arms embargo on the Royal Nepalese Army battling a fierce Maoist insurgency in the kingdom. Over the months, India-Nepal relations have hit rock bottom. The Singh government’s handling of the Nepal crisis has revealed ruptures in the Indian political establishment as well.
Playing the gracious host, Bangladesh, where the organization was founded 20 years ago, urged the Indian and Nepalese delegations to sort out their differences. SAARC, which operates on the principle of consensus, eventually configured a compromise. Afghanistan would be invited to join immediately, while the SAARC council of ministers would decide the structure of China’s—and Japan’s—association at a meeting next July.
In asserting India’s equivalent of the Monroe Doctrine, Singh had the option of coming out explicitly against China’s inclusion in SAARC. It had geography on its side, although globalization has diminished the value of that attribute. Then reality set in. If India could see virtue in forging closer links with the Association of South East Asian Nations, could China be faulted for wanting to do the same with SAARC?
For some reason, Indian leaders, who can take on the sole surviving superpower with remarkable assurance, find themselves significantly restrained when it comes to China. Indian objections to China’s entry were couched in such terms as “modalities”, “precedence” and “memorandum of understanding”.
Officially, Pakistan supported Afghanistan’s membership – in one of the rare instances of cooperation between South Asia’s nuclear-armed rivals—so it could avoid India’s direct censure for having spoiled the party. In response to Indian concerns over where to draw the line once such a broad welcome mat were placed at the SAARC door, one Pakistani official urged everyone to look at the bright side: the organization’s popularity.
Amused, the other three members – Sri Lanka, Bhutan and the Maldives – joined the host in urging New Delhi and Kathmandu to resolve their differences in the interest of preserving what they had. Thirteen summits in 20 years was hardly a record to be proud of. China, for its part, remained studiously silent over the entire affair.
Much of India’s antagonism was heaped on Nepal and perhaps will continue to be. With Nepali Congress president Girija Prasad Koirala currently in New Delhi and United Marxist-Leninist general secretary Madhav Kumar Nepal just back from extensive consultations there, it was hardly surprising to see the seven-party anti-palace alliance criticize King Gyanendra for playing the so-called “China card”.
But was the issue really the surprise the Indians accused Nepal of springing at the last minute? On the eve of the summit, a Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesman reasserted his country’s desire to strengthen cooperation with South Asian countries to achieve common prosperity. In less official settings, the Chinese have been more candid in their desire to join the group.
More significantly, the Chinese spokesman’s remark came against the background of Beijing’s steady extension of its economic reach in South Asia. China’s trade volume with all South Asian nations is close to $20 billion a year, of which $13.6 billion is with India. Although they run trade deficits with Beijing, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka and Nepal receive significant economic assistance from China.
In a clear display of China’s growing political influence in the region, all four nations affirm the “one-China” policy that views Taiwan as an inalienable part of the mainland. Similarly, they recognize Tibet as an integral part of China.
On the sidelines of the summit, Dr. Singh was anxious to re-educate King Gyanendra on the basic tenets of democracy. In the main sessions, the Indian prime minister got a crash course on geopolitics.
November 14, 2005
Before he flew into Dhaka to attend the much-delayed summit of the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation (SAARC), Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh warned of the danger of failed states emerging in the region. Long before he left the Bangladeshi capital, Dr. Singh must have discovered the futility of India’s worry of having to bear the neighborhood’s burdens alone.
Without a seat at the conference table, China had already become part of regional deliberations. India’s “near abroad” had stepped out far ahead in time.
India’s proposal to include Afghanistan as SAARC’s eighth member was expected to sail through – until Nepal stepped in. The Nepalese delegation threatened to veto Afghanistan’s entry unless China was included in the organization as an observer or dialogue partner. The 13th summit of South Asia’s premier grouping already had its share of bad luck. Last year’s tsunami had forced Bangladesh to reschedule the conference for early February. In protest against King Gyanendra’s dismissal of Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba’s multiparty government and takeover of full executive powers, India pulled out of the rescheduled summit.
New Delhi imposed an arms embargo on the Royal Nepalese Army battling a fierce Maoist insurgency in the kingdom. Over the months, India-Nepal relations have hit rock bottom. The Singh government’s handling of the Nepal crisis has revealed ruptures in the Indian political establishment as well.
Playing the gracious host, Bangladesh, where the organization was founded 20 years ago, urged the Indian and Nepalese delegations to sort out their differences. SAARC, which operates on the principle of consensus, eventually configured a compromise. Afghanistan would be invited to join immediately, while the SAARC council of ministers would decide the structure of China’s—and Japan’s—association at a meeting next July.
In asserting India’s equivalent of the Monroe Doctrine, Singh had the option of coming out explicitly against China’s inclusion in SAARC. It had geography on its side, although globalization has diminished the value of that attribute. Then reality set in. If India could see virtue in forging closer links with the Association of South East Asian Nations, could China be faulted for wanting to do the same with SAARC?
For some reason, Indian leaders, who can take on the sole surviving superpower with remarkable assurance, find themselves significantly restrained when it comes to China. Indian objections to China’s entry were couched in such terms as “modalities”, “precedence” and “memorandum of understanding”.
Officially, Pakistan supported Afghanistan’s membership – in one of the rare instances of cooperation between South Asia’s nuclear-armed rivals—so it could avoid India’s direct censure for having spoiled the party. In response to Indian concerns over where to draw the line once such a broad welcome mat were placed at the SAARC door, one Pakistani official urged everyone to look at the bright side: the organization’s popularity.
Amused, the other three members – Sri Lanka, Bhutan and the Maldives – joined the host in urging New Delhi and Kathmandu to resolve their differences in the interest of preserving what they had. Thirteen summits in 20 years was hardly a record to be proud of. China, for its part, remained studiously silent over the entire affair.
Much of India’s antagonism was heaped on Nepal and perhaps will continue to be. With Nepali Congress president Girija Prasad Koirala currently in New Delhi and United Marxist-Leninist general secretary Madhav Kumar Nepal just back from extensive consultations there, it was hardly surprising to see the seven-party anti-palace alliance criticize King Gyanendra for playing the so-called “China card”.
But was the issue really the surprise the Indians accused Nepal of springing at the last minute? On the eve of the summit, a Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesman reasserted his country’s desire to strengthen cooperation with South Asian countries to achieve common prosperity. In less official settings, the Chinese have been more candid in their desire to join the group.
More significantly, the Chinese spokesman’s remark came against the background of Beijing’s steady extension of its economic reach in South Asia. China’s trade volume with all South Asian nations is close to $20 billion a year, of which $13.6 billion is with India. Although they run trade deficits with Beijing, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka and Nepal receive significant economic assistance from China.
In a clear display of China’s growing political influence in the region, all four nations affirm the “one-China” policy that views Taiwan as an inalienable part of the mainland. Similarly, they recognize Tibet as an integral part of China.
On the sidelines of the summit, Dr. Singh was anxious to re-educate King Gyanendra on the basic tenets of democracy. In the main sessions, the Indian prime minister got a crash course on geopolitics.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)