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The government has a plan to gradually open up the country from Covid-19 lockdown in three phases. But even in Phase I, bar education institutions and public transport, most of the country is already open for business. People have started crowding, and many have ditched their masks and hand sanitizers, as if they are now out of danger. In fact, the danger to Nepali lives and livelihoods from Covid-19 has never been greater. The number of corona-positive folks is rising exponentially, and so are related health complications. Yet most people have had enough of the lockdowns. 

Around the world, wherever lockdowns have been relaxed, from the US to Germany, the Covid-19 infections, serious illnesses, and deaths have all shot up. Even China is seeing a troubling uptick in Covid-19 cases—when the country was thought to have largely gotten over the pandemic. In India, as of this writing, nearly 400,000 had corona and close to 13,000 people had died. The stream of Nepali migrant workers in India trying to return to their homeland has remained steady, and they continue to bring the virus along. Meanwhile, most of the lockdown restrictions in Nepal have been lifted. 

There are now over 7,200 corona-positive cases in Nepal and at least 20 deaths. Nepali epidemiologists say this is just the tip of the iceberg; most cases remain hidden because of the paucity of Covid-19 test kits. The virus is silently spreading. Yet people are now moving around and working as if everything is hunky-dory. Confining people to their homes for months on end is never easy. And they are justifiably frustrated. Yet a lot more could have been done to mitigate corona’s impact. 

The federal government has shown shocking neglect in its handling of the crisis. Corruption and mismanagement have marred its efforts to import vital test kits and protective material for health professionals. The communication, from the prime minister down, has been abysmal too. KP Oli claims, without a shred of scientific proof, that Nepalis are naturally immune to Covid-19. Many have taken him literally, to their peril. This is no joke. If complications and deaths shoot up, is the PM ready to take responsibility? And what good will admission of his wrong do when the damage is done? If the government does not correct its mistakes and cannot regain public faith over its handling of the pandemic, the Covid-19 crisis could soon spiral out of our control. 

Today’s citizen protests outside the prime minister’s official residence in Baluwatar, and the state’s brutal response to it, don’t bode well for the health of a country fast sinking in the quagmire of a troubling pandemic. The hundreds who came out to protest on Tuesday, knowing full well they were putting their health on the line by congregating during a pandemic, had no desire to do so. But they could no more ignore the travesty of justice happening all around them. The state had badly botched its corona response; people were starting to die of hunger and racism; and tales of official corruption, including in Covid-19 response, were getting deafening.

The police tried to explain to the protestors they were violating the rule that no more than 25 people could gather during the lockdown and asked them to disperse. When they stayed put, the police opened water canons on the peaceful protestors. Why blame the police though? They were only going by the law. The incident taking place so close to the PM’s residence, they could not have acted on their own: the orders must have come from above. Strictly speaking, the protestors were indeed in violation of the lockdown rules. But had the government done its part during the lockdown, they would never have had to protest.

Such acts of public defiance of government-imposed restrictions will only intensify in the days ahead. The protests on Tuesday are a warning sign. If the government we elected refuses to act responsibly, it is our duty as citizens to speak up, to protest. Right around the world, millions of people have taken to the streets in support of #blacklivesmatter, defying the lockdown, putting their lives at risk. For these folks incensed by entrenched racism in their society, the virus is not nearly as dangerous as the risk of losing their right to live in a free and equal society.

It is no different in Nepal. The Oli government has been irresponsible in its handling of the pandemic, to put it mildly. While it imposed crippling lockdowns, it did precious little to widen the scope of reliable testing for Covid-19, which is the only credible method to limit its spread. The shocking lack of responsibility displayed by government ministers and bureaucrats at a time of a national crisis could not have gone ignored in a democratic society. The country is young, and it is vocal. We won’t be silenced.

We can safely make two observations about the new national budget. One, it is oblivious to the current and future impacts of the Covid-19 pandemic. Two, it fails to honor the constitutional commitment to devolve power and resources away from Kathmandu. All of Nepal’s major income-earning sectors are taking a battering. But Finance Minister Yubaraj Khatiwada still expects the economy to grow by seven percent. The government has come up with highly optimistic numbers on domestic revenue mobilization, too, which is again not in keeping with an economy under great stress. Moreover, as countries around the world tighten belts and focus on national rebuilding, Nepal is hoping to get Rs 299.5 billion in foreign loans. The government commitment to revitalize agriculture is likewise belied by increased import duties on chemical fertilizers.

As curiously, three years after the country’s formal federalization, the federal government seems to have no intent to develop power and resources, thus undercutting the very rationale of the federal project. As fiscal federalism expert Khim Lal Devkota pointed to APEX, the new budget does nothing to decentralize the federal government’s highly centralized resource mobilization powers. The local governments, which are supposed to take the government to people’s doorsteps, have been saddled with a legion of responsibilities and yet are barred from generating their own income. It was also laughable to hear the foreign minister read out the federal government’s forestation and local road building plans in the annual budget; the constitution has already delegated these responsibilities to the local governments.

This kind of centralized budget is sure to exacerbate the Covid-19 crisis. Local authorities don’t have money to buy the most rudimentary stuff for the quarantine facilities they are building. Often, there is no food for those quarantined, nor are there enough toilets. A quarantine room meant for two people is being crammed with 10-12 folks. But our federal ministers and bureaucrats, the models of rectitude, don’t trust local representatives with money. The big and small Covid-19 funds will continue to be sanctioned from the center rather than be entrusted with the local bodies that can prioritize and spend them most judiciously. Local health centers and district hospitals are desperately short of qualified manpower, yet the budget has no provisions to fill these vacancies either. We only give a small glimpse of the highlights of the new budget here. Yet even this snapshot is enough to suggest the budget was for a few close to power than the many far from it.

As Nepal marks its 13^th Republic Day, the anniversary of the overthrow of the nearly 250-year-old institution of monarchy, the country’s patchy progress as a republic is worth noting. The country has made some gains. The ultimate state power has been transferred from hereditary monarchs to people’s chosen representatives. For the first time in the country’s history, Nepalis are fully sovereign. The state is more inclusive, too, with more representation of women and traditionally marginalized ethnicities.

There is a new constitution, and the country is being remodeled accordingly. The desired devolution of power from Kathmandu has begun. But as we have seen, transfer of power from monarchs to elected leaders is not enough. People’s representatives who replaced the monarchs are feeling entitled. They have little to show for the great resources they are extracting from the state. Corruption is pervasive, as is nepotism. Nor has the kind of dirty politicking seen back in the 1990s stopped, as the ruling and opposition parties continue to be consumed with sorting out internal power rivalries rather than in thinking about the country’s pressing problems.

The Covid-19 crisis is about the perfect illustration of the ills that beset the new Nepali state: poverty, mismanagement, confusion about responsibility, lack of accountability, and continuity of old discriminations. The major political parties act more like forces that dispense favors to interest groups rather than those who work for the people. We often get to hear that little has changed. A single ruler has been replaced by a multitude of rulers, whose mindsets are still attuned to ‘ruling’ than ‘governing’. That is being too cynical. The country has made actual progress too in this time. But much-much more could have been done, for instance, in strengthening the public health and education sectors, in adequately empowering backward regions and minorities, in reducing corruption and instituting rule of law, and in ensuring equitable economic growth.     

Republicanism is a work in progress and a dozen years is nearly not enough to judge a political system’s worth. Yet that is no excuse for the incompetence and status quoist mindset our political leadership have displayed, thwarting the country’s socio-economic progress every step of the way. If the state cannot address the concerns of its people, it does not make much difference whether it is a feudal monarchy or a democratic republic, does it?