Mistrust clouds tenuous peace process in Nepal
On paper at least, the path to permanent peace in Nepal looks pretty simple: institute an interim government with rebel Maoist participation, hold constituent assembly elections and ensure that the elected assembly writes a new constitution that not only decides the fate of the monarchy but also eliminates exclusionary policies which have fueled much of the unrest.
But, as all sides in Nepal are beginning to find out, nothing is simple in the long and arduous bid to end the violent 11-year-old Maoist insurgency and institutionalize permanent peace and democracy in one of the world's poorest nations.
Though this nation of 26 million people has been enjoying a rare and tenuous bout of peace since King Gyanendra's coup was rolled back by a spirited 19-day peoples' movement last April, signs of the fragility of the peace process are everywhere.
Talk to the person on the street and he will say that, yes the peace is good and the economy is getting back on its feet, but that the future is uncertain. Youths who have the wherewithal are still trying to emigrate, not only for economic reasons but also out of fear. The single biggest worry on the streets: How will the Maoists behave now that they are on the verge of sharing power at the center?
A senior official in an international development organization who spoke on condition of anonymity puts it succinctly: "The fear of the gun is everywhere. Nepal's people want peace at any cost, and for that they are willing to compromise with the Maoists. But the gun has to be removed to turn this fragile peace into a permanent one."
But removing that gun is the difficult part. While most of Nepal would like to see some kind of United Nations involvement in the management of weapons before the elections, Maoist chairman Prachanda recently sowed public doubt on that possibility by declaring that international groups were not needed to manage the peace process. In any case, say Maoist insiders, why would they lay down the very arms which have helped push their radical agenda on the national stage?
This is a valid argument and one which needs urgent attention from domestic and international partners of the peace process. Weapons management and demobilizing of the Maoist army remain the biggest issues, but even before these are tackled, nagging problems have turned up to sow mistrust between the political parties and the Maoists.
Members of Nepal's governing Seven Party Alliance (SPA) have accused the rebels of running kangaroo "people's courts" in the districts to intimidate civilians, continuing with extortionary practices and pressuring the SPA leadership into dissolving the House of Representatives, the lower house of parliament which was revived by Gyanendra last April after a people's movement threatened to topple the crown.
Parliament's existence is of particular importance to SPA members who now seem to realize how its absence from mid-2002 to April 2006 allowed both the dictatorial monarch and the far left Maoists to nearly squeeze them out of existence. As such, SPA parliamentarians are asking their leadership to reconsider the agreement to dissolve the House again.
Speaker Subash Nembang, putting voice to the concerns, said: "At no cost should parliament be dissolved. This parliament should remain in existence till the constituent assembly elections." His party-mate Pradip Nepal, a senior leader of the Communist Party of Nepal, a SPA constituent, alleging Maoist extortion and kangaroo courts thundered, "We led a people's movement to end the tyranny of the king. Now we won't tolerate another tyranny by the Maoists."
The man who signed the controversial agreement with the Maoists, Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala, an ailing 84 year-old chain-smoker, has yet to speak publicly on the issue. But his home minister and leader of the government's talks team Krishna Sitaula has tried to assuage fears by declaring that the "House will be replaced by a stronger representative body that will give space to comprehensive participation to all."
Such semantics are not enough to put fears to rest, especially since the Maoists have refused to end their "people's courts."
Even the international community, which funds most of Nepal's development needs and is gearing to bankroll the post-conflict reconstruction, have their own misgivings. Last week, as Maoist leaders Baburam Bhattarai and Mahara met the Indian and Swedish envoys in Kathmandu in a bid to soften their image, the US ambassador to Nepal, James F. Moriarty, threw a bombshell by declaring that, given the refusal of the Maoists to disarm, he feared an "October revolution"–a reference to the communist seizure of power in 1917 that founded the former Soviet Union.
Moriarty's remarks were a significant raising of the stakes, and one which brought swift denunciation by the Maoist chairman Prachanda. In an interview over the weekend to state-run television Nepal TV, the rebel supremo said the US, "is trying to disrupt the peace process. The US envoy has been trying to provoke the situation." He, however, ruled out any violent take-over and went out of his way to state that his group would rather take up street protests to force change, if peace talks failed.
The spat illustrates just how deep the divide is between the rebels and the US, one of Nepal's major donors. It also underscores the policy differences between the US and other donor nations as Nepal braces for an interim administration in which the Maoists will possibly play a potent role.
The US ambassador has clearly ruled out financial aid to Nepal if the Maoists join the government without laying down arms. Other donors, including India, are not so set in their positions. Most donors would like to continue engagement with the Maoists, offer them recognition and respectability in return of good behavior. But strong US opposition is clouding that approach, knowledgeable diplomatic sources say.