Submit your Article

A federal structure with central, provincial, and local governments was to be the core basis of a new Nepal. But although it was meant to devolve decision-making to the local level, federalism has been one of the most disappointing and unrealized aspect of Nepal’s political transition. Instead of genuine devolution, federalism is emerging as a top-down conduit for managing disbursements to the local level.

Authority remains vested in the center. The constitution does devolve authority and responsibility to provinces and local entities. In practice, however, they are being structured to manage government disbursements and expenditures. Without meaningful emphasis on building revenue sources for local governments, federalism in Nepal will remain an empty promise.

Several promising new acts, such as the Local Government Operations Act 2074, delegate spheres of authority but do little to fiscally empower provinces and local entities to deliver on their responsibilities. Local governments remain entirely dependent on the center’s generosity.

Federalism in Nepal was a direct result of the Maoist movement. During constitution-making, the Maoist leadership strategically protected the space for federalism. Recognizing that federalism would be a contested issue, they drew the debate towards provinces—how many should there be, their names and geography.

While that debate on provinces raged, Nepal’s constitution quietly established 753 highly empowered local entities. These local entities, more than provincial authorities, represent the genuine basis for federalism in Nepal. The constitution combined federalism with decentralization, returning Nepal to its original state with many diverse and different entities before a king had unified them under one central authority.

Why is that Nepal’s vision of federalism and decentralization confined to paper, lacking the thrust to translate its principles into practice? Because the Maoist uprising only provided the political movement to establish a federal decentralized structure. An economic revolution is needed to realize it.  

The fight for genuine federalism represents the next phase in Nepal’s political transition—an economic revolution that will dismantle the concentration of wealth at the center, paving the way for genuine fiscal federalism and decentralization. Whether the Maoists will reinvent themselves to lead this charge, or a new alignment of forces will emerge, is hard to say.

Kathmandu, where the wealth and authority are most concentrated, is the battle ground. Much like the capture of Kathmandu was the final piece in the unification of Nepal centuries ago, the dismantling of Kathmandu’s economic stranglehold is now the final piece in the genuine decentralization of Nepal.

For evidence, start by looking at land prices in Kathmandu. Fuelled by access to cash, debt financing, lack of alternative investments, and short-term speculative transactions, Kathmandu’s economy sits on a giant asset bubble. Return on housing or commercial assets are a miniscule fraction of the underlying land value.

To visualize Kathmandu’s asset bubble, contrast the hustle and bustle of everyday life in the city with the quietness that prevails during Dashain and Tihar. Kathmandu is deserted then not because everyone is quietly celebrating at home. It is because most have left Kathmandu to celebrate the holidays with their families in other cities, towns, and villages around Nepal.

What would Kathmandu’s land and real estate asset prices be if the situation during Dashain and Tihar were normal everyday life? This is what genuine federalism would do to Kathmandu—suck out the pressure on land and burst its asset bubble.

The federal capital’s economy thrives by sucking in remittances, export earnings and foreign aid, before turning them around to fuel consumption across Nepal. As a trading, financial and administrative hub, it has very little productive capacity of its own—unlike other towns and cities in Nepal that draw in resources from surrounding areas and add some value.

Unlike other towns and cities, Kathmandu’s value comes entirely from its administrative positioning as the central hub through which everything must pass. That value is now under threat. Genuine federalism will erode Kathmandu’s unchallenged administrative position as the hub through which all earnings and consumption must pass.

Why does genuine federalism in Nepal require an economic revolution? Because genuine federalism will burst Kathmandu’s asset bubble. The impact will be felt largely by Kathmandu’s wealthy asset owners, though the economic fallout may be broader. At the same time, wealthy asset owners have too much at stake to let the asset bubble burst.

The parties to the conflict have now taken their positions. Nepal’s economic revolution is brewing.

[email protected]

Niranjan Koirala or Niru Da as he was fondly called by his loved ones, passed away on the morning of January 3, Tuesday, at Max Hospital, New Delhi. He was 75.

Born to Keshav Koirala and Nona Koirala in Biratnagar, he studied in St. Xavier’s Patna for a few years and then completed his schooling at Adarsh Vidyalaya in Biratnagar. He then did his Masters in Political Science from Banaras Hindu University, followed by another Masters in the same subject from the University of California, Berkeley. Following this, he completed a course in hospitality management from Delhi and was a part of the hospitality sector for 20 years. He was also an adviser to a former Nepali minister of tourism in the 1990s. From his time in the ministry, Niru Baba, as I liked to call him, was particularly proud of his role in getting Italian filmmaker Bernardo Bertolucci a permit to film his movie 'Little Buddha' (1993) in Nepal.   

A member of the illustrious Koirala family—he is the elder brother of Nepali Congress central committee member Shekhar Koirala—Niru Baba also played a prominent role in the reestablishment of democracy in 1990.

Although he lost his first wife Santosh in the fatal Thai Air crash near Kathmandu in 1992 and his second wife Ila Dalmia—whom I met a couple of times when I was a kid—to cancer in 2003, he never stopped to live and love life to the fullest.

My first memory of Niru Baba was at his house in Delhi. As his profession suggested, he was a very hospitable man, and hosting people for meals was something he enjoyed a lot. He was passionate about reading and writing, and the study in his house exemplified his interests perfectly. He had a big garden at home and could be found basking in the afternoon sun in winters, sometimes just enjoying a cup of coffee or displaying produces from his garden.

He was known for his peculiar passions. He had a pet monkey which he had brought to Delhi from Kathmandu. To my fascination, he had also built a tree house for the pet. Such were the things that gave him real happiness. 

A travel enthusiast, he had travelled all over the world, covering the remotest of places such as Antarctica and Upper Mustang. Every winter he would travel and spend time in the Western Ghats of India to escape the treacherous Delhi winter.

He was a progressive man and technologically savvy. I remember an instance in Kathmandu where he was a bit jittery as he could not figure out the Wi-Fi password. He always mingled with the younger generation, trying to see things from their perspectives, broadening his as well as their horizons.

I still have fond memories of our last meeting on the 10th of February 2020 where we were analyzing in great detail the result of Delhi Assembly Elections. He was knowledgeable in a wide array of things from religion, politics, travel to art, culture to cuisine. A vehement critic of crony capitalism and propounder of rural culture and ethos, one could see him travel and cherish the rural lifestyle.

In the end I would like to quote two literary authors who I think had a great impact in his life and the essence of these could be seen in the life he lived. The first one is Rabindranath Tagore who says, “The tendency of mind is economical, it loves to form habits and move in grooves which save it the trouble of thinking anew at each of its steps. Ideals once formed make the mind lazy. It becomes afraid to risk its acquisitions in fresh endeavors. It tries to enjoy complete security by shutting up its belongings behind fortifications of habits. But this is really shutting oneself up from the fullest enjoyment of one's own possessions. It is miserliness. The living ideals must not lose their touch with the growing and changing life. Their real freedom is not within the boundaries of Security, but in the highroad of adventures, full of the risk of new experiences.”

The second one is a poem by W.H. Davies

“What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.”

Goodbye Niru Baba, I will miss you.

Niranjan Koirala was the author's uncle

The last day of the year that passed, December 31, was special for spiritual seekers. The followers of Ramana Maharshi celebrated 141^ST Jayanti (birth anniversary) of one of the greatest Indian mystics of the past century. Maharshi [great sage] was born on a night earlier, December 30, in the year 1879, near the south Indian town of Madurai as Venkataraman Iyer. Later his devotees started calling him Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharsi.

Ramana is best remembered and revered for his teaching of self-inquiry, in the form of “Who am I”. The questioning is done consistently to such a degree that the question vanishes and everything the “I” associates itself with is dropped, leaving behind the bare, naked I-ness. And this I, in its bare starkness, finds itself no different to the un-manifest basis of all creation—or the Self. Ramana referred to this Self as God or Shiva or Brahma, as the occasion required. In that revelation of the Self, the egoist concept of individual and separate “I” dissolves and you are put on the path of moksha (liberation) or ultimate union with the Self.

But of course, it cannot happen that simply. And this inquiry is not that easy. When visitors came to see him, Ramana tried to help them have a glimpse of their true Self through silent transmission. He just glanced at them with a compassionate gaze, which brought about subtle spiritual changes in them. Visitors would get their questions answered, their thirst quenched, their confusions cleared in his presence. No words were needed. But when prompted, he would give minimal teachings. Sometimes, his caretakers would finger-count the words he spoke in a day. Those few words were remarkably succinct and profound.

“When he chose to answer questions, each sentence was like a text from the Upanishad, so full of meaning that it required calm, silent pondering over in order to be understood fully,” writes Professor T.M.P. Mahadevan of Madras University.

The outer manifestation of Ramana's silence was an absence of speech. But its real nature was the stillness and calm of the mind that was constantly manifest in his meditation as well as his worldly chores, even when meeting people. He said his real teaching was silence, words were just pointers. Teaching through words was a mundane and inferior act for the illumined sage.

Ramana settled at Arunachala, the hill of Tiruvannamalai in Tamil Nadu, for the rest of his life after leaving home at 17. The hill was not just a hill, it was his Shiva itself as he referred to it as Arunachala Shiva. Three incidents before his leaving home are noteworthy. When he was 16, a visiting relative told him he was coming from Arunachala. The word worked like a magic spell on the young Ramana, indicating a past-life association. Upon knowing that Arunachala was a real place and it was called Tiruvannamalai, his future course was set. Then he found a book, Periyapuranam, which chronicled the life stories of sixty-three exemplary saints. Their tales of renunciation had an overpowering effect on Ramana, and he started envisioning a similar life for himself.

When he was few months to 17, he entered a death experience. One afternoon he was sitting in his room, his health perfect, but he suddenly felt like dying. He lied down on the floor and welcomed death, questioning what is it that dies. He felt his physical body dying, but his consciousness was very much alive. He had an extraordinary experience of everything about him dissolving except his real Self. Few weeks later, he left home for good.

People coming in his proximity felt liberated. Sometimes, spiritually uplifted gurus may still have a good stock of ahamkara (ego) in them. In their presence, one may feel dwarfed or embarrassed. But never with the egoless Ramana. Anybody coming close to him was bound to be filled with awe for his simplicity and compassion. Face to Face with Sri Ramana Maharshi, a collection of personal accounts by 202 well-known people, has plenty of testimonies to this fact.

“His [Ramana’s] face is full of inspiration, unearthly serenity and power, of infinite kindness and understanding,” writes M. Sudouski (Mouni Sadhu), a Polish-Australian author. “His eyes glow with a perfect understanding of all the weaknesses, defects and inner difficulties of those who look into them. They had much sympathy, wisdom and understanding. An incredible loving kindness radiated from them.”

“Being near the Maharshi one feels the presence of God–no arguments or proofs are necessary. The greatest miracle is the Maharshi himself,” concludes Sudouski.  

Following the monarchy’s ouster China started cultivating all major political actors in Nepal: Nepali Congress, the big communist parties, as well as the emergent Madhesi outfits. It had come to believe that in an unstable polity like Nepal’s, any of them could be running the show at any time. Yet when KP Oli sought China’s balancing role against India following the 2015-16 border blockade, Beijing saw an opportunity to benefit from the changing political equations in Nepal.

In the 2017 federal elections, the UML-Maoist coalition romped home to victory, partly as a result of Oli’s efforts to minimize Indian interference with China’s help. China continued to encourage the two largest communist parties to unify and the Nepal Communist Party was born. (The Chinese didn’t have the final say on this unity, but they did play an important role.)

As the NCP locked in government leadership for five years, the Chinese sought to train its leaders in ‘Xi Jinping thought’ and to vigorously push the BRI, Xi’s signature foreign policy initiative. China also leaned on the new communist government to reject the American MCC compact and to keep India, Uncle Sam’s new ‘poodle’, at arm’s length.

The internal power struggles in the ruling party put paid to China’s plans. After engaging in a futile, last-ditch effort to undo the NCP split, it has already started distributing its Nepali eggs in multiple baskets. Congress President Sher Bahadur Deuba has been invited to attend CCP’s birthday bash next year. Feelers have been sent to the JSPN, the unified Madhesi party. Meanwhile, the Chinese will continue their efforts to unify Nepal’s communist forces.

The Chinese are reinventing diplomacy. With the help of their increased financial clout, they are building support among elites in every country they operate in. Top politicians, businesspersons, academics and journalists are invited on all-expenses-paid trips to China, and hosted like royalty. When these people get back to their country, they bring stories of modern China’s dazzling development, and emphasize on the need to follow China’s path.

In time, these elites, who are repeatedly invited to tour and learn from China, become its points of influence. Thus, today, China has powerful friends in every sector of the Nepali society—and across the political spectrum. The inducements on offer are just too good to resist.   

Public opinion, the Chinese don’t much bother with. At least the Indians seem worried about ‘unfavorable’ public opinion in Nepal, as was evident during the blockade. Not so the Chinese leadership, which can give any domestic spin to events outside their borders. When it singled out The Kathmandu Post for censure last year, many thought China had committed a diplomatic faux pas. Yet intimidation was exactly the point. The message was that China under Xi wouldn’t be charitable to its vocal critics.

So, yes, China is helping us balance against India, but at what cost? What level of Chinese interests do we accommodate and still retain our democratic values?

Nepal cannot do without China, its all-powerful neighbor. But how do we import its developmental model while keeping its governing ideology out? And is there a way to minimize China’s influence on our elites, or to use this influence in our national interest? 

Countries around the world are grappling with these questions in their dealings with China. Not so in Nepal. Our new, elitist foreign policy framework for one is predictably silent on this all-important issue.