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Monarchy had been an integral part of Nepali society since the unification of the territories currently clubbed under Nepal in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. Without the Shah monarchs, there would be no Nepal as we know it today. Sometimes they ruled directly, at other times they did so through their elected or unelected representatives and, for another 104 years, they were only figureheads. Yet they endured, for nearly two-and-a-half centuries. 

Arguably, the first nail in the monarchy’s coffin was hammered in on 1 June 2001 when the entire family of King Birendra, the ruling monarch, was gunned down. The then crown prince Dipendra was named the culprit. He apparently took his own life after killing his family, and no new piece of evidence has emerged to suggest someone else was directly involved. Yet that is not how people saw it. The consensus then, and perhaps even now, continues to be that Birendra’s younger brother Gyanendra, who would later be the king, had a big hand in the massacre. 

As the monarch, Gyanendra started getting increasingly authoritarian: assuming all executive powers, outlawing political parties, and controlling the media. This only confirmed people’s doubts about him. By the time the Seven Party Alliance started a joint campaign with then warring Maoists to oust the autocratic king in 2006, public opinion had turned firmly against Gyanendra. When the king, cornered at home and ditched by the international community, gave in to protestors, he knew full well he was signing on the monarchy’s death warrant.   

Many Nepalis are disappointed with the course of events in the country in the two decades since the monarchy’s ouster. A sizable section of the population is again starting to hanker after the stable days of monarchy. But this will be a flawed course, for two main reasons. One, the federal-republic project in Nepal is only in its infancy, and it is too early to pass definite judgments on its success or failure. Two, there can be no going back from a situation where sovereignty is now fully vested in the people. On the 20th anniversary of the royal massacre, it is worth recalling the beloved Birendra and his family. But there is no point trying to revive an institution whose time has passed.

The writing for the Nepal Communist Party (NCP) had been on the wall since its formation in 2018. After a resounding electoral victory for their communist alliance, the KP Oli-led CPN-UML had completed the merger process with Pushpa Kamal Dahal-led CPN (Maoist Center) with the sole intent of, as it turned out, dividing the spoils between them. The understanding was that Oli would lead the government for two and half years after which he would make way for Dahal. Predictably, Oli refused to step down halfway into his tenure. Predictably, the NCP split.

Now it is the turn of the CPN-UML to undergo a formal spilt following the expulsion of 11 senior leaders by the Oli-led UML standing committee. Among those expelled are heavyweights such as Madhav Kumar Nepal and Jhalanath Khanal, two ex-PMs. They were booted out after they petitioned with President Bidya Devi Bhandari to name Nepali Congress’ Sher Bahadur Deuba as the new prime minister. Once again, ideological differences had nothing to do with the latest fissure in the ruling party. It was an all-out personality clash.

The Nepali communist movement has been turbulent since the formation of the Communist Party of Nepal (CPN) in 1949 under Pushpa Lal Shrestha. But while earlier fissures in the communist movement were at least partly ideological—for instance, in 1962 the CPN split over the debate of whether communists and royals could work together—in recent times, such fissures (and later fusions) have largely, if not exclusively, been guided by personal calculations.  

Then there is the question of whether any of Nepal’s big, nominally communist forces are in fact communist. Of late, it is hard to distinguish the Nepali Congress from the CPN-UML or CPN (Maoist Center). Though all three swear by democratic socialism, in reality all of them support crony capitalism. Communist candidates are the biggest spenders in electoral campaigns and control big chunks of the economy. Their commitment to the welfare state is wafer-thin. Without greater ideological clarity and walking-the-communist-talk, Nepali communist movement faces an existential crisis.

Over the past week, Nepali media outlets have been flooded with accounts of Nepalis working in Israel worried about their personal safety. Hamas, the Gaza-based Palestinian militant group, has been dropping rockets on neighboring Israel and more than 10 Israelis have already been killed. People living there are justifiably afraid. Yet such accounts have also helped paint, if inadvertently, a misleading picture. They make it seem like Hamas is largely to be blamed for the current conflict. Such accounts also make Israel, rather than Palestine, the victim party.

The truth is the exact opposite. In the latest instance, Hamas started propelling rockets into Israel because the Israeli government under Benjamin Netanyahu refused to stop building Jewish homes in the Palestinian territory in the West Bank. This is the area that Israel illegally occupies by displacing Palestinians who have been living there for generations. Israel has also closed vital crossings into Palestinian territories and stormed a place of worship. Cornered, some Palestinians retaliated.  

This is not to justify any kind of terrorist activities. Hamas is wrong to use rockets on civilians. But what about Israel? It labels Hamas a terrorist organization but itself employs even more brutal tactics. While around 10 Israelis were killed by Hamas bombing as of this writing, Israel had indiscriminately killed at least 120 Palestinians in the Gaza Strip, including women and children.

It has also refused to talk to the ‘terror group’. In fact, such disproportionate use of force has been the preferred Israeli modus operandi in recent times as the government in Tel Aviv comes under pressure from far-right Zionists to bulldoze the Palestinian aspiration for their own homeland. 

The government of Nepal, which likes to weigh in on events from around the world, often unnecessarily, has maintained complete silence on Israeli actions in Palestine. Perhaps the fear is that any such statement will hamper the prospect of lucrative jobs for Nepalis in Israel. Plus, Nepal is an old friend of Israel—it was the first South Asian country to host a resident Israeli embassy.

Precariously placed countries like Nepal have little margin for error in the international arena. But it could, at the least, urge restraint on both the sides and ask Israel to come up with a roadmap for a viable two-state solution.  

The Janata Samajbadi Party, Nepal (JSPN) came into being a year ago to thwart Prime Minister KP Oli’s bid to split Upendra Yadav-led Samajbadi Party. Oli’s intent was to lure seven Samajbadi Party lawmakers into his government and thereby cement his hold on power. At that time, he also had an eye on a likely future split in the ruling Nepal Communist Party, with the ex-Maoist faction under Pushpa Kamal Dahal walking away. In that case, he would need Madhesi support to retain his parliamentary majority.

Besides this proximate reason for the merger, the combined Madhesi force could better lobby for Madhesi rights in the new constitution. On the national front, the JSPN presented a much-needed alternative vision for Nepal, with greater emphasis on ethnic and regional rights. (The two other major actors, the Nepali Congress and the then Nepal Communist Party, agreed on most vital constitutional issues.)

Yet the 2020 merger of the two Madhesi parties was always going to be tricky. The biggest obstacle to party unity would be top Madhesi leaders’ portfolio management. This was a headache even in the pre-merger RJPN, itself formed with the merger of six different Madhesi parties. With the RJPN combining with Samajbadi, the number of big egos at the top only multiplied. As expected, they have tussled bitterly post-merger. Now, the combined JSPN is once again on the verge of a split.

It is clear that the JSPN came together and could now split for no other reason than the failure to accommodate the outsized egos of its leaders. Whatever they say in public, they seem incapable of collectively fighting for the Madhesi people. This brings us to a vital question: Why do we need a strong Madhesi force if it is to be no different to other traditional parties that already have strong presence in Tarai-Madhes? This question will only get louder as the rift in the JSNP deepens over whether to help KP Oli retain power. Madhes, meanwhile, will be ripe for another uprising.