A delicate experiment is underway in Nepal in the
wake of the success of the “people’s movement”
and the collapse of the Gyanendra autocracy in
late April 2006. An attempt is being made to draw
a violent insurgency into open politics.
Far-reaching changes have been initiated over the
past two months to put the country on the track
of full democracy and peace, and the process of
integrating the Maoists into the political
mainstream has begun with their emergence on the
stage of open politics. To what extent will they
change the terrain of Nepal’s polity, and how
much will they themselves will be transformed in
the engagement with open society?
A jittery international community, India among
it, feels that a fast-talking rebel leadership of
the Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist) [CPN (M)]
is extracting excessive concessions from the
political parties without submitting to an
immediate process of “management of arms”, a
route towards the demobilisation of Maoist
fighters. While a section of civil society could
not be more pleased with the inroads made by the
Maoists into the national sphere, the political
party rank-and-file wants disarmament to proceed
immediately so that they can return and revive
politics in the districts. They also fear a chasm
between what the Maoists leaders say from the
national pulpit and their ability to deliver a
transformed cadre at the ground level.
The assumption is that the Maoist leadership is
indeed committed to multiparty politics, which
ipso facto carries with it the need for its
forces to begin the process of laying down arms.
To what extent can the rebel supremo Pushpa Kamal
Dahal push the agenda, given that the political
leaders have acted with sagacity in meeting him
halfway?
As things stand, all over the country, the rebel
combatants retain control of their weapons even
as their people’s war has been abandoned. And
therein lies the most critical challenge facing
the Maoist leadership - of keeping the flock
together so that when the time comes, the guns
are laid out for inspection by United Nations
decommissioning experts in a process leading to
ultimate demobilisation. This is a hiatus,
dangerous but also full of possibilities.
The valley summit
The pace of events since the April 2006 uprising
has been quite astounding. The reinstated house
of representatives stripped the monarchy of all
power by a proclamation on 18 May, undoing much
of Gyanendra’s autocratic transgressions since
October 2002. For their part, the Maoists staged
a massive rally in Kathmandu on 2 June, and
intensified their demand for the disbanding of a
parliament that was undercutting their plank with
its many progressive pronouncements.
An ailing Girija Prasad Koirala went to New
Delhi, was graciously treated by his hosts, and
returned to Kathmandu with a package worth 15
billion Nepalese rupee ($218 million) for
consolidating the interim government’s budget and
kick-starting development. In a significant
departure, New Delhi also indicated its
willingness to allow United Nations experts to
oversee the demobilisation process. The
possibility of credible oversight generated
momentum for the peace dialogue.
While the bilateral ceasefire continued to hold,
official talks began between three senior Maoist
leaders and three ministers representing
different political parties. This culminated in a
“summit” organised at prime minister Koirala’s
residence on 17 June. Dahal’s meeting with the
prime minister soon expanded to include other
members of the seven-party alliance (SPA) that
had fought to bring down the royal autocracy with
the assistance of the Maoists. After a
quarter-century underground, Dahal suddenly
became “public” on the national stage for the
first time, in a crowded and impromptu night-time
press conference.
During the meeting, even as the ailing Koirala
kept retiring to his room to rest his weakened
lungs, what emerged was a far-reaching
eight-point understanding: in this, the two sides
agreed to draft an interim constitution, create
an interim government that included the Maoists,
announce the date for elections to a constituent
assembly, and dissolve the house of
representatives "after making an alternative
arrangement". For their part, the Maoists
promised to dissolve their “people’s governments”
in various parts of the country.
These rapid developments were propelled by the
Maoist need to arrive at a “safe landing” as
quickly as possible, before there was a
dissipation of their forces and energy. Even as
the rebels appeared satisfied at what they had
been able to extract at the talks, the political
party rank-and-file were agitated at the equation
of the parliament with the Maoist people’s
governments, and the silence regarding the
decommissioning of rebel arms. "That was supposed
to be the quid quo pro, not this", said one
minister, fuming. The leaders of all parties were
left hoping that Dahal had given secret
assurances on downing his guns to Koirala in
their one-on-one session, for he certainly could
not have said so in the larger group. Koirala,
meanwhile, was not telling, and soon flew to
Bangkok for medical treatment.
There were misgivings within the larger SPA that
a coterie group within the Nepali Congress had
essentially presented them with a fait accompli,
and that the populist pressures based on the
overwhelming desire for peace meant everyone kept
his own counsel on the crucial day. The
grumblings began the day after, with party
workers castigating their leaders for giving in,
stating that the Maoists had held on to their
main card, which was the gun in their hands.
At the same time, the rebels had the terrorist
tag removed, received an agreement to enter the
interim government, had their jailed cadre
released, and, most importantly, got the
announcement on the disbanding of parliament. The
naysayers maintain that Maoist sincerity has not
been tested on the ground, even while the rebel
bluster tries to push their position as the
“mainstream” position.
But it is also a fact that it is impossible to
negotiate by committee, and the delicate
situation of the Maoist leadership vis-à-vis
their cadre required a level of secrecy and a
need to maintain momentum. And while so many
bemoan the lack of quid pro quo from the Maoist
side, the very fact that the insurgents have
abandoned their agenda of violent war can be
considered their major concession, which was
provided last autumn and which contributed to the
momentum of the people’s movement. But while it
is important not to lose momentum, the
negotiators on the two sides must realise that a
situation must not be created where a dangerous
rejectionism overtakes the parties.
What is left hanging in the air in the third week
of June is how the Maoists are to join the
interim government without the arms issue being
settled. At the time of this writing, no letter
has been sent to the United Nations on arms
management. Meanwhile, amidst all this, UN
secretary-general Kofi Annan has inexplicably
assigned Ian Martin, the high-profile UN
human-rights official assigned to Nepal and
expected to play a key role in demobilisation, to
a six-week fire-fighting mission in East Timor.
Nepal needed more consideration than that.
The question of arms
Without doubt, the Communist Party of Nepal
(Maoist) high command has taken an extreme risk
in the bid to reorient its political strategy,
both in terms of personal safety and protecting
the gains of the “revolution”. This has stemmed
from its willingness to submit to geopolitical
reality, as well as the dawning realisation that
state power cannot be attained militarily. For
this reason, and their evident willingness to
finally abandon arms, the political parties have
created space for them in the national mainstream.
Yet, there is no need to be placatory beyond a
point, for the rebels did unleash a violent
agenda on the people of Nepal. Moreover, their
claim to speak for the Nepali people will only be
tested once they contest elections and the people
get to vote freely, without the looming threat of
the gun.
The Maoist cadres need to undergo a rapid process
of “politicisation” so that they learn to
function in open society, without resorting to
the threat of the pointed muzzle. The parties
must be allowed to penetrate the districts beyond
the headquarters, which they still are unable to
do due to the recalcitrance of the ground-level
rebel activists.
In this context, the big question today is how
credible is the Maoist willingness to submit to
“arms management”, and what is the exact
procedure? And if commitment is shown to be
lacking, can the political parties hold off on
the disbanding of parliament? The Maoists need to
understand that every Nepali citizen other than
the Maoists’ own fighters, militia and cadre
(their numbers yet to be ascertained) wants those
rifles and pistols to be handed in.
The entire disarmament exercise was labelled
“management of arms” in the twelve-point
agreement signed between the Maoists and the SPA
in November 2005, the roundabout language used to
allow the rebel leadership to “sell” the idea
gradually to its fighters. In private
conversation, some Maoist commanders have
conceded to the political leaders that they could
not survive within the organisation just yet if
they went around talking of demobilisation and
decommissioning.
Over the course of a decade, young fighters have
been socialised into the culture of violence, and
for them a decommissioning process would entail
loss of prestige, power - and even income.
Mid-level Maoist commanders have assured some
interlocutors that while they would be willing to
be confined in barracks, with guns available for
inspection to the UN, they cannot give up arms
completely because they do not trust the top
brass of the Nepal army. The reluctance of
fighters and militia members to hand over their
rifles may also be for fear of spontaneous
reprisals by villagers who have remained sullen
and subdued for much too long. If this is the
case, then the Kathmandu government must create
the conditions where such impromptu vigilantism
is nipped in the bud.
There is no doubt that disarmament of Maoist
fighters is key to Nepal’s future, even as every
effort is made to keep the Nepal army under a
tight leash and made incapable of further
crushing democracy or fighting a “dirty war”. The
question is whether the leaders who today head an
armed group should show due humility towards
political activists who do not hold guns - given
also the success of the peaceful people’s
movement, which had non-violent Maoist
participation. Should a party that wants to
submit to multiparty politics push its agenda in
the districts through the sheer potential of
armed intimidation?
Furthermore, it is crucial to understand that
truly free and fair elections to the constituent
assembly will not be possible until the voting
public knows that the rebels will return to the
villages after the elections only as
non-combatant sons and daughters.
A representative house?
While to some the eight-point agreement of 17
June has the flavour of excessive concessions,
the ambiguities may have been left there
deliberately to provide “space” for the rebels.
It could also be that Dahal and his lieutenant,
Baburam Bhattarai, have been talking in
confidence not only to Koirala, but also to
Indian interlocutors and senior UN officials, and
that they may have provided believable assurances
about their transformation for peace. While many
believe that the return for disbanding the house
should have been a definitive announcement
regarding the renunciation of violence, it might
just be impossible for the rebels to do so at
this stage even if the intention is there.
As far as the parliament is concerned, it is a
fact that the stability of the state following
the people’s movement was possible only because
the house was reinstated. Similarly,
international recognition of the landmark
legislative events that followed only took place
because it was done by the house. Against such a
background, what is the “alternative arrangement”
that could stand in for the revived parliament of
elected representatives, and would such an entity
ever get the same legitimacy in the eyes of the
people and the world? If there is to be a
compromise body, would it not receive full
credibility only when it is anointed by the house
before it disbands?
Without the legitimacy granted by such a process,
how can the donor community and foreign
governments be expected to come forward to the
assistance of an incongruous coalition government
of political parties and Maoists who have not yet
renounced violence? Will there, then, be an
entity within the government of Nepal that
actually commands two armed forces: the Nepal
army and the “people’s army”?
But there is also the argument that accepting the
Maoists into the government is exactly the way to
“co-opt” them and force them to take the guns
from their combatants. The argument is that such
contradictions and ambiguities are the very
elements that will allow the Maoist leadership
the manoeuvrability needed to extricate itself
from a difficult spot vis-à-vis their radicalised
cadre and fighters.
A necessary ambiguity
Two matters will thus be at the centre of the
energetic debate in Kathmandu in the weeks ahead:
what do the Maoists understand by hatiyaar
byabasthapan (management of arms), and what will
be the shape of the “alternative arrangement”
that is to follow a disbanding of the house of
representatives? The creativity and forbearance
with which the Maoists and the political leaders
seek these answers will ensure whether Nepal will
succeed in what so many have failed to do
elsewhere in the world - bringing an insurgency
to a decisive end so as to make up for lost time
on the path to social and economic transformation.
The hazy ambiguity can be seen as necessary to
bring the Maoists in from the cold, as long as
there is careful monitoring of the process. But
it must be said that the true transformation of
Nepali society will not come from the CPN (M),
which would become part of the social revolution
that is still required only after it joins the
mainstream, multiparty politics. Such a social
revolution must emerge from the clearly expressed
desires of the Nepali public by way of the
people’s movement, for a non-violent society
where historical ills are tackled through
discourse and political evolution rather than
through atavistic violence.
The Nepali people are convinced - if the
insurgent and political leaders are not - that
social and economic advancement will be achieved
only through a return to peace, disarmament,
reconstruction of the economy, and rehabilitation
of the national psyche. The “inclusive” Nepal of
the future will come from a pluralistic state
with social-democratic political leadership. The
Maoists will also be part of this campaign, as a
political party, once their fighters have been
truly demobilised, in the process that begins
with the “management of arms”.
The Maoists began their insurgency against a
democratic dispensation back in 1996, with the
Gyanendra interlude making it a convenient
conversion for them to fight a dictatorial
monarchy. Now that the kingship has been
defanged, its future to be decided by the
citizenry through a constituent assembly, will
the rebels revert to their old violent agenda or
will they adjust to the new reality?
Over the past two years, after all, much has
changed, even in the Maoists’ own strategy and
thinking. With the CPN (M) having taken a
strategic decision to come to multiparty
politics, the political parties open-heartedly
decided to make space for them in Nepal’s
political spectrum. Will the rebel leadership now
show their own magnanimity - and courage - by
lowering their pitch and restraining their
demands? Amidst the haze, and even taking into
account the contradictions in pronouncements by
the Maoists of Nepal, the view looks bright.