KATHMANDU - The deal reached on Wednesday in Nepal is being described as
historic. Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala, who has been leading a
coalition government since May, told the Nepali people that the latest set of
political decisions was an achievement for all.
"It is not a defeat of anyone. Neither is it a victory of a particular
political party," was how Koirala offered his first explanation on the deal
that was struck between the Seven Party Alliance he
heads and the Maoists, who have agreed to end a decade-old armed insurgency
that claimed more than 13,000 lives.
Both Koirala and Maoist leader Pushpa Kamal Dahal (aka Prachanda) said Nepal
was about to enter a new era. Men and women closely working with them during
the weeks and months of arduous negotiations, too, consider that the outcome
did constitute a step, if not a leap, forward.
The international community closely watching developments in Nepal also
appeared convinced that the peace process was gaining momentum and that it
should be maintained.
While Koirala's explanation that the agreement was not a victory of a
particular political party tried to allay fears of his partner parties and some
others outside the coalition, it could not dissuade the Maoist leadership from
organizing victory rallies across the country.
Maoists chose a five-star hotel to call a press conference where Prachanda
claimed that what was happening in Nepal would be "the first great world
experiment of 21st century". His expressions there reflected the Maoists'
perception that it was their party, the Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist), that
harvested most of the gains to be made from the deal.
Prachanda and his comrades-in-arms had reasons to be exhilarated. The foremost
among them is the fact that their party carried weight that is equivalent to
that of the seven parties combined. They accomplished this unparalleled
position primarily because of the insurgency they think they successfully
conducted in the period beginning in 1996. But some of their rivals claimed
that the deal proved that the Maoists were rapidly becoming a spent force.
Prachanda's success in Nepal must be a bittersweet piece of news to Peru's
revolutionary leader, Abimael Guzman, who is languishing in a Lima jail for his
role in the Shining Path movement that cost nearly 70,000 lives. The Nepali
Maoist leadership has admitted in the past that it drew inspiration from
"Comrade Gonzalo's" movement. In 1993, dozens of Nepali legislators responded
to a signature campaign for Gonzalo's release launched by some left-wing
politicians who later rose to be senior Maoist leaders.
The other notable achievements Maoists have made include a provision for their
sizable presence in a 330-strong interim parliament, to be set up by November
26. Maoists are to get 73 seats, which is equal to the number being allocated
to the second-largest party in the present ruling alliance.
The other gain Maoists have made is in the form of a government undertaking to
reciprocate the rebel offer to separate combatants from weapons and place them
under United Nations supervision. According to agreement, the Nepalese army has
to demobilize an equal number of its soldiers until elections to a
constitutional assembly are held by next June.
In normal circumstances, the state army would have objected to such an
arrangement, but this is not likely to happen now in the context of a new
military law that has removed traditional linkages with, and loyalty to, King
Gyanendra. Besides, the November 8 deal specifically stipulates that the army
has to follow strictly the orders issued by the cabinet. This cabinet, expected
to be formed by December 1, will include representatives from the Maoist party
as well.
In exchange of these gains, Maoists have agreed to renounce violence. Their
combatants, members of the "People's Liberation Army", are to be kept in seven
cantonments in different parts of the country. The PLA claims it has about
35,000 combatants. UN representative Ian Martin said these camps need to be set
up in "accessible areas" to make monitoring effective.
Maoists have pledged to engage themselves in competitive politics and seek
state power through elections. Prachanda has publicly promised to take his
"democratic" agenda to the voters during the campaign for elections to the
constitutional assembly.
Prachanda's deputy, Baburam Bhattarai, conceded in a seminar a few weeks ago
that Maoists have realized that contemporary trends and events in and around
Nepal would not permit them to grab power through the insurgency they were
leading. In other words, the latest Maoist commitments are real. They don't
want to return to their hideouts in the jungles.
Nevertheless, the level of trust among the parties involved is less than
adequate to implement decisions, which could have far-reaching consequences.
While the Maoist leadership fears sabotage from conservative and reactionary
elements, the alliance leaders are skeptical about the sincerity and honesty on
the part of Maoists.
When Prime Minister Koirala stood before the incumbent parliament on Thursday
to explain the importance of landmark deal, he made an appeal to the Maoists to
abide by the agreement "in letters and spirit". He said he wanted them to
change their conduct and behavior. Koirala, who faced considerable
international pressure during negotiations with the rebels, was addressing the
concerns of Nepal's friends and well-wishers abroad.
It was reflected, for instance, in the statement the British government issued
through Foreign and Commonwealth Minister Kim Howells with respect to the rule
of law, "without which any peace agreement will be inherently fragile". In
other words, the Maoist leadership must work to ensure the end of the phase of
anarchy through extortion, abductions, and beating and killing innocent people.
Prachanda canceled a public meeting scheduled for Friday in the wake of
widespread complaints from the residents of Kathmandu Valley that they were
forced to agree to feed and provide accommodation to thousands of people who
were brought into the valley to attend the meeting to be addressed by the top
Maoist leader.
"The main responsibility now is on the rebel leadership, to rope in the cadres
and convert the rebellion into a political party," said Kanak Dixit, editor of
Himal publications.
But will the Maoist leadership take such a suggestion seriously? Doubts and
suspicions persist. Some of the doubts emanate from the style in which the
Maoists continue to conduct their activities, and others are associated with
the substantive issues at hand. Those who care to read messages from the Maoist
work style allude to the press conference that Prachanda addressed after
signing the agreement.
The wall behind the stage set the for the show was cluttered with banners that
either depicted hammer-and-sickle signs or eulogized Marxism, Leninism, Maoism
and Prachandaism. In addition to this, all top Maoist leaders had red tikka
(a mark of vermilion powder ) on their forehead. Had they been practicing
Hindus it would not have seemed unusual. But that was not the case.
Prachanda and his colleagues did not celebrate Dashain, the country's largest
festival, last month, saying it did not have "a scientific basis". Why did they
then put on tikka marks if they did not want to convey a message that
they were not abandoning the revolutionary path despite agreements to end the
insurgency? Or were they just trying to take undue advantage of the widespread
illiteracy that keeps a large number of people credulous? A deceptive,
contradictory look can create considerable confusion.
Apprehensions that Maoists might use the latest peace deal to advance their
agenda in a subtle manner are based on the failed deals of the past. Each of
the agreements reached since August 2001 has been made redundant by Maoists.
There is, therefore, no guarantee that the rebel leadership will not use this
latest opportunity only as tactical move.
Knowledgeable sources on security matters claim that top Maoist leaders have
told members of their "core group" that what they were doing was in essence a
change of strategy alone. It is in this context that three top Maoist leaders
have publicly said they would not join the interim government being formed
shortly. Instead, they will look for an alternative to be able to form their
"own" government that will allow them to implement their progressive and
revolutionary agenda.
"Indeed the agenda for social-economic transformation has been pushed aside,
giving priority only to the political transition," said Devraj Dahal, a
political analyst closely watching the recent developments. Issues and
positions relating to economic principles and foreign-policy matters remain
unclear. The sole aim appears to get to power.
Concerns and speculation are not confined to political and economic issues.
Analysts studying security aspects of the November 8 agreement are concerned
about decisions made on the existing national army, the proposition to absorb
Maoist recruits and its possible implications.
The pledge to grant citizenship to several million people by making mid-April
1990 the cutoff date is equally worrying. Nepal's porous border with India,
where movement of people remains unregulated, make it vulnerable. And the
citizenship pledge runs counter to the provisions made even in the
controversial 1950 treaty of peace and friendship with India. Provisions of the
treaty permit nationals of either country to reside in each other's territories
and engage in trade and commerce. It implies that there are Nepali nationals in
India and Indian nationals in Nepal. So without an offer of reciprocity, how
can Nepal be asked to grant citizenship to Indian nationals who may number in
millions?
These inconsistent positions and provisions tend to give credence to a
perception that Johan Galtung, a Norwegian professor known worldwide, shared
with the Kathmandu Post newspaper on November 6: "Your prime minister is not
accountable to parliament and the government. He is accountable to Delhi and
the United States. It is very unfortunate." Galtung, a frequent visitor, would
not have used these stinging words if he had not understood the unfolding
scenario here in Nepal.
Dhruba Adhikary, who has been a Dag Hammarskjold fellow, is a
Kathmandu-based journalist.
