King Gyanendra, it's time to bow down
By Dhruba Adhikary

KATHMANDU - King Gyanendra finds himself in an unenviable position after a week of popular protests. The brutal way the military and police forces are being used to quell the agitation is making men and women on the streets angrier than they were up until the first week of April. Neighboring countries are taking note and beginning to question whether monarchy in Nepal means stability.

Political parties belonging to an alliance formed last May initiated the demonstrations, which quickly attracted active support from



medical doctors, university professors, lawyers, businesspeople, journalists and other members of the middle class. The demonstrators have for the first time defied curfews and openly challenged the authority of ministers appointed by the monarch.

All government attempts to control the demonstrations through the use of military force have proved unsuccessful. And imposition of a daytime curfew, something rare in Nepal, intensified popular protests among both villagers and town dwellers. Vegetable farmers, for example, are incurring losses as their perishable products cannot reach the markets, while denizens of Kathmandu and other towns are not getting adequate supplies. Prices have soared.

Latest economic indicators make it clear that the economy is going downhill fast, with tourism and other sectors continuing to be affected by political instability. On Tuesday, the country's largest body representing business and industries expressed solidarity with the movement for the restoration of "complete democracy".

Attention is now on the king because problems of this insurgency-torn country started to get complicated after his decision on February 1, 2005, to assume all state powers, ruling through peremptory orders and arbitrary decrees. In the absence of parliament, his regime is not accountable to anyone.

The people of Nepal showed during the pro-democracy movement of 1990 that they are highly unlikely to accept arbitrary rule for long. They forced the then-king, Birendra, to bow before his subjects and agree to a constitution that effectively confined his role to that of a guardian.

King Gyanedra, who ascended the throne in the aftermath of a mysterious palace bloodbath in June 2001, which took the life of Birendra, initially said that he wanted to play a "constructive role" in the political sphere.

After a coup attempt 14 months ago, he unveiled a roadmap he said would put Nepal on track to democracy in three years. His subsequent steps, however, went in the opposite direction, and his ambition to appear to be the head of a powerful monarchy led him to where he is now.

The foundations of democratic institutions such as a free press and independent judiciary were shaken. The king appointed himself chairman of the council of ministers he formed, even though the constitution does not provide for one. Politically, he sent a wrong signal by picking persons as ministers who were associated with the discredited panchayat system, which was rejected by the people in 1990. His reluctance to meet leaders of leading political parties in the intervening months did not leave room for anyone to believe in his earlier assurances.

Moreover, royal obstinacy pushed the political parties closer to the Maoists, who launched an armed insurgency 10 years ago. The memorandum of understanding the two sides signed in November has changed the traditional perception of the monarchy in Nepal. The Nepali Congress, the country's largest and oldest political party, removed from its manifesto its traditional pledge to retain the monarchy. The idea that a king is essential in a country of ethnic and cultural diversity is fast losing credence.

Internationally, too, King Gyanendra faces acute isolation. India and China, Nepal's neighbors to the south and north, have stopped expressing their support to keep the monarchy intact. Their belief that the monarchy was the deciding factor for stability appears to have badly shaken.

While New Delhi took this position partly to burnish its credentials as the "world's largest democracy", the stand taken by Beijing does not provide any clue as to whether it considers the monarchy, an unpopular one at that, as a factor for stability in the region.

A visiting Chinese state councilor, who holds the rank of a vice premier, made a rare gesture of meeting some of the leaders in the opposition before having a chat with the embattled monarch. The king's courtiers were not happy.

Reactions from the United States as well as from the European Union are more open and forthright. Through a publicly delivered message on Monday, the US State Department said direct rule "has failed in every regard". A statement released by the Finnish Embassy on behalf of the EU expressed a similar view, calling on the king to restore democracy at the earliest.

The king's options are obviously limited. He can, even at this late hour, take some bold steps, publicly showing flexibility on the issue of democratic restoration. "Yes, the alliance of seven parties initially did not want to oppose the monarchy if the present king was willing to shed the 'autocratic' form he assumed," said Nepali Congress spokesman Krishna Sitaula, alluding to the popular demand for an end to "autocratic monarchy".

Whether such a move will be enough now is a matter of conjecture. And whether the palace coterie will allow such a thing to happen is even more speculative.

If he wishes, King Gyanendra can defy the advice tendered by loyal hardliners and embark on a mission to save the institution he inherited in extraordinary circumstances. Some monarchists expect that he will make a useful announcement in his traditional Nepal's New Year's Day message on Friday.

The formation of an all-party interim government would be a good start.

Dhruba Adhikary, who has been a Dag Hammarskjold Fellow, currently heads the Nepal Press Institute.

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