The Economist magazine
Mar 21, 2012
by T.B. | KATHMANDU
FOUR years ago Nepal elected a Constituent Assembly (CA) with a two-year mandate to write a new democratic constitution and draw a line under a decade of Maoist rebellion. After repeated delays and term extensions, undignified politicking and public derision, the process is at last running out of road. All the signs are that it will end in a nasty crash this summer.
The critical issue is the sort of federal autonomy demanded by historically marginalised ethnic groups. Their grievances helped fuel the insurgency and are now creating an increasingly stark polarisation between what are characterised as “the dominant group” and “the oppressed”. Familiar terms, these, but the battle-lines are new. Whereas the Maoists stressed class oppression, nowadays the talk is of ethnicity.
Ever since Nepal was created in the 18th century it has been controlled by high-caste men from the hilly regions, the priestly Brahmins and the lordly Chhetris. Brahmins and Chhetris form about 20% of a national population that includes over 100 different groups, nearly all of them organised in a caste hierarchy that remains discriminatory and repressive. The upper castes’ grip on power survived the introduction of democracy in 1990. Their members dominate every major institution, including the three biggest political parties, the bureaucracy, judiciary, media and army.
When the Comprehensive Peace Agreement was written in 2006, at the end of the war, it included broad pledges to reform the state. A year later, when the interim constitution was promulgated without an explicit commitment to federalism, the southern plains (a region known as the Madhesh) rose up in a bloody street movement. National leaders in Kathmandu were forced to amend the charter to include a commitment to federalism. Newly assertive Madhesi voters then elected a new breed of ethnic politicians to the CA in 2008.
A similar case for ethnic autonomy is made by several other groups who regard themselves as being indigenous to other parts of the country.
With the CA’s term due to expire on May 27th, and further extensions barred by a Supreme Court ruling, the most contentious issues of federalism have not even been debated at the highest level. Sticking points include the number of states, their boundaries and—emotionally charged—their names. Pragmatic observers believe a deal could be possible. Yet the leaders of the three big parties (all Brahmins, as their opponents are quick to note) are accused of running down the clock, with the scarcely concealed intention of deferring federalism till some future date.
Ethnic leaders regard postponing federalism now as tantamount to abandoning it altogether. Their more moderate demands were ignored in 1990, when the previous constitution was drafted by an unelected committee of high-caste men.
To many members of the “dominant group”, any kind of federalism is an invitation to communal strife and national disintegration, but especially if the new states have the ethnic character that their proponents demand. Yet its proponents see these arguments as serving to perpetuate high-caste domination. They warn that back-pedalling is liable to accelerate precisely the conflict it claims to avoid.
Only a politicised minority is deeply engaged in the issue now, but it is noticeable that public opinion already divides along ethnic lines. Madhesi parties and other “indigenous” groups are forming alliances and threatening a national street movement against the new constitution, should federalism fail to be delivered. They could shut down the country for weeks with widespread unrest.
No one is predicting a decent into ethnic bloodletting, but the consequences of a massive strike would be severe. Pasang Sherpa, an ethnic activist and CA member still within the fold of a national party, warns that the major parties would see their support fragment along ethnic lines. An array of new parties would form, each espousing more radical demands.
That process already occurred among the Madhesis in 2007. “Everyone’s demand is inclusion, not separation,” says Mahant Thakur, a Madhesi member of the CA. Yet if federalism is denied, demands for complete independence would rise in some quarters.
Would the three national parties really court disaster by shirking in their commitment to federalism? Probably. The two oldest parties, the Nepali Congress and the Unified Marxist-Leninist communists, are strongly identified with the status quo. Ethnic leaders accuse them of failing to understand how Nepal has changed. Both parties have blundered repeatedly in recent years.
The Maoists are a more complicated case. Their strong showing in the 2008 election was partly based on their vocal support for ethnic causes, yet their Marxist ideology makes factions within the party uncomfortable with ethnic politics. Sceptical ethnic leaders note that the Maoists are also led by Brahmins.
Other scenarios are possible. The Supreme Court may reverse its judgement and allow another extension, or the CA could grant itself more time in defiance of the court. Either case would bring its own dangers—of a wounding clash between legislature and judiciary, or public outrage at the politicians’ failure to get the job done. Public trust in the process is already low. If there is an extension it will have to be brief.
Either way, ethnic leaders say that if the high-castes who control the process don’t deliver an acceptable form of federalism, they’ll take their demand to the streets. Experience has shown them that’s the only way to be taken seriously.
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