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The power and cultural rights of the numerous indigenous groups in Nepal are diminishing in the name of development. Inclusive politics have been a part of the democratization of Nepal, and efforts have been made to empower marginalized groups. Nepal has for instance ratified the ILO 169 convention, a document that ensures the indigenous population their cultural rights. But their cultural heritage and land access are being threatened right across the country.

Chaos in Khokana

The bus reaches Khokana village on a hazy day the villagers have chosen for a festival to present and promote their ancient Newari culture. Home Minister Ram Bahadur Thapa and local politicians mount the stage set up in the village square. Teens play music in traditional clothing, and food stalls and dance troupes line the streets. Unfortunately, the festivities have a darker side.

I meet Nepal Dangol, who shows me around town. He is kindly greeted by many people along the way and we end up at the edge of village. We are overlooking yellow mustards fields that stretching towards the hills and mark the end of the Kathmandu Valley.

“All of this will be lost,” Nepal Dangol says with a grave look on his face. “The government is planning to capture everything.”

Khokana is being threatened by the ever-increasing urbanization of the Kathmandu Valley. The government has plans for eight major infrastructure projects in the vicinity of the village. The festival has been arranged to showcase the uniqueness of the village and to highlight what would be lost if the government goes ahead with its plans.

The plans include a fast track-highway to the Indian border, an outer ring road, a so-called Smart City, a high-tension line, and a railroad. All these projects combined will take up 80 percent of the village land and traditional agriculture will be history. The community and most of its households are built upon a structure their farming traditions and knowledge provide. Farming not only provides food but also a communal structure of cooperation and a sense of belonging.

My guides for the day, Nepal Dangol and Krishna Bharan Dangol, explain to me that they would accept one or two projects, but not all of them. They understand the needs of Kathmandu Valley and the Nepali government, but if all the planned projects are realized the village will have to be dispersed—something that is unacceptable to them.

The government obviously needs to improve the country’s infrastructure, but at what cost? Who has access to Nepal’s development? Khokana is unfortunately not the sole example in Nepal. The government’s development plans spread across the entire country, and the local population often has to deal with the consequences.

Migrating power

Our jeep travels on bumpy roads along the Marshyangdi and connecting rivers. It is an uncomfortable ride and I repeatedly bump my head against the ceiling. In the valleys and along the rivers most of the villages belong to the Gurung community. We meet people who complain about wells and farmland that dry up, noise pollution from heavy traffic and constant construction, landslides due to explosions and heavy machinery, and the disappearance of fish from the rivers. The culprit for these undesirable changes? The many hydropower plants are being built in the area. But many households in the area are not electrified and few people benefit from the new power projects. The generated electricity will instead be sold in India and Bangladesh.

Tunnels are being built to redirect the rivers to turbines, which affects the environment. As we travel up the Marshyandi River, power plants and construction sites line the mostly dry riverbed. Farmers tell us about how their fields are now useless since the river hydrate the turbines instead of their fields. The communities along the river depend on farming and fishing for a living, which means the already vulnerable communities are now more marginalized.

Most villages have been forced to build new channels and dig alternative wells. They still await compensation. The local politicians I talked to seemed incapable of supporting those affected and said all the decisions were made at the national level. The licenses to exploit the natural resources have been granted, and the numerous power companies that operate in the area have the right to do so. However, the local Gurung communities no longer have the right to fish.

Failing the natives

Sadly, this is a universal problem. Being Swedish, I often hear in Nepal that I come from a great country, famed for equality, welfare and as a protector of human rights. It is true to an extent. I enjoy a comfortable citizenship that comes with numerous benefits. However, I am sad to see big similarities in the way Nepal and Sweden treat their indigenous populations. In the Swedish cold north, the Sami community used to have a vast tundra to herd reindeer, deep forests to hunt, and big rivers to catch fish. The Swedish government now fills its treasury with money from mining, forestry and hydropower plants that exploit the old land of the Sami. The resources are exploited in the north and the profits and benefits end up in the south.

Unlike Sweden, Nepal has ratified the ILO 169, an international document that ensures indigenous populations their right to maintain their identity and culture. Access to land and maintaining traditional ways of life is major part of indigenous populations’ culture, and the two issues often go hand in hand. To maintain traditions, Gurung and Sami communities need access to natural resources. If these resources are limited, their culture is also threatened.

Sweden has chosen not to sign the ILO document to be able to exploit the land of Sami communities; Nepal has chosen to ignore the document even though it has ratified it.

After visiting Khokana and Lamjung, I saw that the government of Nepal ignores the right of indigenous populations and has its eyes only on economic development. Preserving ancient traditions, cultural heritage and identity are not prioritized. We need improved roads, and Nepal’s hospitals and households need power. However, one needs to question who are being effected by development. In my last month in Nepal I heard many stories about villages being lost and small-scale access to resources being limited. Indigenous communities are losing their rights, but Chinese cement factories and tourist attractions can enjoy increased rights.

Nepal promotes itself as a multicultural society with a model national charter. Nepal is a democratic and inclusive on paper—now is the time to become inclusive in practice. It needs to protect all of its citizens, Brahmins and Gurungs alike.

The author has an MSc in Global Studies from the University of Gothenburg, Sweden

I know we are all tired of hearing about Covid-19, the fake and the real news. And as I write this no one has any idea what will happen between now and the publishing of this column. Meantime, all international flights in and out of Nepal have been cancelled and inter-city buses stopped. It feels like the earthquake, blockade, conflict years, and the curfews of the early 2000s—all rolled into one. And as I write from my self-isolation, the supply of electricity has been patchy. So add the load-shedding era to that list too. But this time we are not alone. This time the whole world is under quarantine and holding its breath. So although I’m tired of talk about this damn virus, there is nothing else on my mind.

There has been plenty of apocalyptic things written—and yes, it certainly is a seriously worrying time. But there are those who are looking on the brighter side.  You will have noticed the pollution level in the valley has gone down as the number of vehicles on the road has decreased. You might have seen the pictures of the canals of Venice running crystal clear for the first time in goodness-knows-how-many decades. Wildlife is venturing into the deserted city streets and the environmentalists are taking—we cannot call it a break but let’s call it a pause—from their relentless campaigning. 

We see governments and corporations acknowledging that it’s not those in the high- income bracket who are the (so-called) pillars of the economy and society now. It is the dedicated medical staff and self-sacrificing retail and delivery personnel keeping us all going. Yes, indeed, the world has turned on its head.  A new order is perhaps beginning. A levelling of society, a redistribution of wealth maybe. And we will have to suck it up and get used to it. 

Meantime in Nepal, as I write this, nothing fundamentally has changed in my area.  Small teashops are still crowded with chatting men, women are still buying from well-stocked vegetable sellers, and children are still playing in the street. I don’t know if this will still be the same by the time you read this. Right now, however, it seems we have still not accepted the reality of the situation, or we are still depending on whatever deity we believe in to protect us. 

While we are in a semi-lockdown, some parts of the world are in complete quarantine. Whether because things have gotten so bad or in order to try and prevent the worst.  ‘Levelling the curve’, is a phrase we are perhaps now familiar with. Like ‘social distancing’, these are phrases we did not know until a few weeks ago. My parents are in long-term government recommended quarantine in the UK as they fall into the over 70 and therefore more vulnerable, category. My sister is in lockdown in California along with another 40 million people in that State. My other sister and her family are in self-quarantine. And billions of people have similar stories.    

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Covid-19, like the Angel of Death who passed over the Israelites, passed over Nepal? But realistically, this is highly unlikely, regardless as to which religion or deity we believe in. So, it’s up to us. Nepal has an amazing capacity to stand on the brink of disaster and somehow pull herself back. Let’s do the same this time. Let’s not fall into the abyss. As many Facebook posts tell us—when else are we going to be able to save the world by simply lying on the couch and watching Netflix? Good luck and stay home.

We will eventually overcome the novel coronavirus pandemic. But Nepal will never overcome its geopolitics. The Covid-19 pandemic will cause untold pain and hardship here. Yet as soon as it’s over, or even before it, geopolitics will make a resounding comeback. Even during a crisis like the coronavirus pandemic, Nepal was careful not to antagonize either of its two big neighbors, by asking each for nearly equal help in dealing with the virus. But the goal was always to import trained men and vital material from China, which has already significantly controlled the spread of virus within its borders. 
 
US President Donald Trump has thrown down the geopolitical gauntlet through his repeated reference to the ‘China virus’. Beijing has doubled down in response, accusing American bombers of dropping the coronavirus into its territory. The Middle Kingdom was quick to reach out to the rest of the world, including Nepal, asking them not to use Trump’s ‘xenophobic’ virus labeling. Even though China may have bungled its first response to the outbreak and let the virus spread, it has since offered every kind of help to other countries deal with the corona crisis. Beijing had also asked Kathmandu what it needed.  
 
Meanwhile, the MCC compact is stuck in the Nepali parliament, and with the election of Maoist hardliner Agni Sapkota as the new speaker, it is not sure to pass. No, it is not Chinese pressure holding up the compact. But China surely does not like the idea of the Americans spreading their influence in South Asia. It loathes the rapprochement between India and the US and New Delhi’s increasing willingness to partner with the Americans to minimize Chinese influence in the region. As Yun Sun points out in War on the Rocks, “The consensus in China seems to be that India wants and needs to rely on the United States to balance China’s growing regional dominance.”
 
Nepal will thus be forced into increasingly harder choices. If the current communist regime is seen as continuing to cozy up to Beijing, and resisting the Indo-Pacific Strategy, the search for the regime’s alternative will intensify. Again, the calculation in New Delhi is that it can challenge Beijing’s designs on South Asia only with American help. So much the better if Washington also promotes the idea of India as the undisputed leader of South Asia. 
 
Despite the corona videoconference, there is no real possibility of SAARC’s revival. Modi remains steadfast on his anti-Muslim Hindutwa agenda. When the threat of importing corona from Pakistan into India is over, he would like to have nothing to do with Islamabad. This will push Pakistan closer to China, with the inevitable consequence of further bolstering Indo-US ties. Pakistan will then have no need for SAARC and by extension no need to accept India’s leadership of the region. The undermining of SAARC will further erode the bargaining power of its relatively smaller countries like Nepal. 
 
The corona scare has pushed China and the US further apart. Even if a Democrat wins the US presidential election, it is hard to see this bilateral relation improve much. The reverberations of this tussle will be felt around the world, including in Nepal, a geopolitical outpost the Americans have closely monitored since the 1950s. 
 
 
 

When the coronavirus has spread to nearly every country in the world, why hasn’t it in Nepal? After all, China is just across the border, and one can see many Chinese as well as European tourists in Nepal. Surely someone must have been in con­tact with someone else who was infected. The situation is certainly curious—so much so that even the politicians have gone on record, asserting confidently: “Coronavirus won’t come to Nepal.”

Why have we avoided the epi­demic? This question struck a doc­tor in Nepal. In an article in Nagarik, Doctor Sher Bahadur Pun hypoth­esized that the tradition of using one’s hands for eating, dishwashing, laundry, washing after defecation, etc may be pivotal in eliminating the virus. We “play with water” in all our daily activities. Unlike people of developed countries who do not wash hands before eating, people in Nepal wash twice: once before and once after a meal. They also don’t have appliances (or, like me, choose not to use them), so they wash clothes and do dishes by hand. Again, this means a thorough soak in strong soap and water for long at least twice a day. In addition, people use their hands to wash themselves after going to the toilet, and this is followed by a hand wash at least two or three times a day.

Although I bought a washing machine, I never used it. I like using my bucket to soak my clothes over­night, before rinsing them in the morning and hanging them out to dry. My eighty-five-year-old father still washes his underwear and socks himself daily. The thought of piling up used underwear and socks for a once a week laundry always discom­forted me, which is why I may have reverted to a daily wash. Although it’s not always possible to do laundry every day—aches and pains, fevers, period blues can strike the body—I find the daily activity of washing one’s clothes gives a sense of work completed. I get this ethics from my mother, who in her seventies still likes to “pacharnu” (thrash) her clothes and give it a sun dry, even if she can’t thoroughly soap and rinse the clothes due to diabetes and high blood pressure.

After reading the Nagarik article, it occurred to me that nobody in the West washes their hands before or after eating. Cutlery has given the West a sense of immunity. They would be appalled at the idea of eating with hands, because they assume their civilizational habits are supreme and there can be no more discussion about this matter. In fact, there’s nothing clean about plastic cutlery that’s been handled mul­tiple times by plastic distributors, restaurant workers, food deliverers and other people on the chain of transmission. Coronavirus survives 3-4 days on plastic, as opposed to four hours on copper. Even when eating with metal cutlery, people in the civilized West are at risk due to their hygiene habits.

There might be small particles of food and saliva on their hands which they may have wiped off with a paper or cloth napkin, but that is not enough to wash away a virus. They walk around confidently afterwards with saliva contaminated and germ-laden hands and handle money, papers, and office equip­ment. They shake hands and they kiss other people goodbye, touching people’s bodies and clothing with the same fingers they just dipped into the pasta sauce or in half-raw beef sandwich.

“White People, you need to wash your butts: Toilet paper is not enough,” wrote Indi Samarajiva on Medium, bringing lots of laughs and a fair amount of agreement. His laugh out loud funny article argued that not washing one’s butts was dirtier than using toilet paper. Besides toilet paper panic post coronavirus, the article brought to the fore the issue of deforesta­tion. Western notions of sanitation has been one of the most harmful practices for the environment—from toilet paper that deforests entire forests to the flush that consumes eight liters of water, from clean­ing chemicals of toxic provenance to sanitary pads made of plastic which clog up waterways. Sanita­tion Western-style has bulldozed environments worldwide.

Could it be that a reversal to tra­ditional ways of living might be the way to avoid this pandemic, rather than AI or Gilead stocks? In Nepal, people cook their own meals twice a day, eat with their hands, wash before and after eating, wash their dishes and laundry with soap and water every day, rarely go to restaurants, do not use much plastic cutlery, and in general live a simple life in which plastic is mini­mized. They also practice avoidance of “jutho”—anything touched by saliva or saliva touched hands. They do not accept or offer jutho to oth­ers. They don’t shake hands—they do namaste, and in general main­tain a respectful distance between people.

All of this was scorned as Brah­minical puritanism by the Maoists, who forced Brahmins to eat food from the same plate as strangers under pain of death. Ostensibly meant to be a caste equalizer, as Brahmins don’t share food with other castes, what these forcibly shared meals overlooked is that Brahmins don’t even share food with their own family members— they always respect the right of the other person not to be contami­nated by the saliva of someone else.

Will the Eurocentric world listen to this age-old wisdom? Or would they rather die instead?