Bishal Shah
The Nepali Nationalists Organization (NNO) USA, believes that Nepali People should always think about to keep their royal institution for long. It is the symbol of Nepali national unity. It is the prestige and pride for the Nepali people. No one can imagine that the killer like Pushpa Kamal Dahal (Prachanda), Girija Koirala who has masterminded to hijack twin-otter plane in 70s which carried a huge national revenue and still he did not have answered whereabouts of that wealth, Madhav Kumar Nepal whose height is barely above 5 feet with no charm at all and Sher Bahadur Deuba who does not understand himself what he spoke or Pashupati SJB Rana, Surya Bahadur Thapa, Lokendra B. Chand, Regional Madhesi leaders -anyone can present Nepal's image outside Nepal. As far as inside Nepal, except His Majesty King Gyanendra, there is no one who can unite a nation and bring all Nepali together. Every people within their deep heart has a place for King Gyanendra. Whoever speaks whatever, still, inside their heart there is a love and respect towards King Gyanendra. It is the foreigners who wish Nepal being turned into Christian nation or who wants to hijack all natural resources love to see Nepali people without their guardian, Monarchy. Therefore, true patriots of Nepal are completely right when they say Nepal is no more sovereign and independent nation. Nepal will have lesser status than Bhutan without King. One of Nepal's well-wishers, the Political Science Professor Dr. Jenny Curzine from France always argues in favor of monarchy. She always says: we have no Monarchy now. Our Monarchs were projected as villains in the history but that is not hundred percent true. During their rule France used to be the number one nation. We were powerful and richer than the United States of today. There is no country will ever be as equal as France during the rule of our Monarchs. We had prestige, power and in fact, we reached the height of progress. Nepal was also moving towards progress during Kings rule. I am not against the democracy, but the democratic leaders ruined Nepal. They stagnated country and they put Nepal under the feet of India. King Gyanendra is sacrificing everything for the people of Nepal. If he wanted the Nepalese people would have swept away the Jana Andolan II very easily. If he had just requested the people to stop, Jana Andolan II would have gone in a thin air. At last, King is a must for Nepal otherwise, expect Nepal, a federal state of Greater India or federated nations of different names and with different flags. And then, definitely, there will be no four star flags, no flags with sun or Cow or something else. People will be greeted with the flags of Tiranga (Indian Flag) or with the flag of hammer and sickle (international communist's flag) or with different regional flags like in former Yugoslavia. No matter how the Constituent Assembly election gives the result, Nepali leaders must unite themselves and save Monarchy for the sake of Nepal's future. The leaders must think that the result of CA is not an end in itself. It has a big responsibility of drafting a new Constitution. The people must be given the final say on a new Constitution through the referendum. Lacking this will lead towards the real revolution that Nepal has never witnessed in its history, nationalists defending Constitutional Monarchy and Hindu Dharma at one side and the parties defending India's interests and imported religions at the other. The result is evident. (On behalf of the Nepali Nationalists Organization NNO), USA, Chairman, Bishal B. Shah)
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Sunday, April 6, 2008
As He Prepares To Speak…
It finally looks like King Gyanendra is ready to divulge the details of the agreement that catapulted the Seven Party Alliance (SPA) and Maoist rebels to power two years ago.
Reports of an agreement primarily committing the SPA and the Maoists to the continuance of the monarchy have been circulating from the start. The king had made an oblique reference to the existence of such an undertaking in his conversation with journalist Hari Lamsal earlier this year. He had promised to speak in greater detail at the opportune time.
That time seems close at hand. Regardless of whether the constituent assembly elections are held on schedule this month, the monarch is expected use his Nepali New Year message to tell his side of the story.
Admittedly, it is unclear whether the agreement was oral or written. In the first case, the monarch would have a far greater challenge in providing credible evidence. In the latter, the resultant questions are no less vital. Was a formal agreement signed? If so, who were the signatories? If not, did the contracting sides depute representatives with full powers of attorney? Did General Pyar Jung Thapa, army chief at the time, do all the legwork? Or was royal secretary Pashupati Bhakta Maharjan the pointman? Were there witnesses, such as, say, foreign ambassadors who were active during the height of the April Uprising?
Clearly, the answers would have to come from the king. The response of SPA and Maoist leaders would then help to clarify a vital phase of current history. For now, we must rely on the king’s comment to Lamsal as well as a public comment Girija Prasad Koirala made on April 17, 2006.
Speaking to newslinenepal.com, Koirala provided what must be the most explicit undertaking that the Nepali Congress could get the Maoists to agree on a ceremonial monarchy if King Gyanendra reinstated the House of Representatives.
The fact that the 12-point agreement the Indians mediated between the SPA and the Maoists merely pledged to end an “autocratic” monarchy buttresses that reality. The same proviso underpinned the formula brought by Karan Singh, Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh’s special representative.
Now, as premier, Koirala and other partisans could argue that events overtook that pledge. However, it cannot diminish the fact that political events were spurred by that undertaking. Clearly, there was little else in terms of clarity than the continuance of the monarchy in New Delhi’s initiative. For proper context, it is essential to step back a couple of weeks.
King Gyanendra’s prolonged absence from Kathmandu was scorned as a stark symbol of royal aloofness. While at the royal retreat in Pokhara, the monarch certainly wasn’t donning “Christian Dior sunglasses and military uniforms, listening to Indian love songs and consulting astrologers,” as The Washington Post’s John Lancaster had us believe. If he “greeted supplicants in a ceremonial tent” and “boarded a French-made Puma helicopter for forays around the countryside,” it was part of his consultations.
More importantly, King Gyanendra sought to give the Indians time to get their act together. Consider the context. Washington, impatient with New Delhi’s deepening ambivalence on the crisis, was prepared to start its own initiative. The Bush administration had just created a wider South and Central Asian Bureau in line with its national security strategy.
Richard Boucher, the new assistant secretary of state, was in Delhi in the first week of April. While his public comments focused on the “failure” the royal takeover had proved to be, Boucher was vexed by the stranglehold Indian communist parties had on the Singh government’s Nepal policy. Sitaram Yechury & Company, for their part, were anxious to mainstream our Maoists before India’s own Naxals acquired enough fervor to choke the Kolkata communists.
The National Security Advisory Board saw mainstreamed Maoists in a more sinister light but was unable to come up with a credible roadmap. (The board continues to be headed by former foreign secretary Maharaja Krishna Rasgotra – who as ambassador to Nepal very discreetly oversaw B.P. Koirala’s return on a plea of national reconciliation and, before that, had served as King Tribhuvan’s liaison during his brief exile in India. He, along with another former ambassador, Krishna V. Rajan, had met with King Gyanendra before the October 4, 2002 dismissal of Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba.)
The Indian defense and home ministries were still having a hard time persuading the external affairs ministry of the Maoists’ capacity for mendacity in the democratic process. The palace knew that Foreign Secretary Shyam Saran had struck inextricable ties with the Kolkata Reds as a journalist long before he became India’s ambassador in Kathmandu.
The Bharatiya Janata Party, irked by the Singh government’s unwarranted indebtedness to Yechury & Co, announced it was sending former foreign minister Jaswant Singh for talks with King Gyanendra and the mainstream parties. Prime Minister Singh and his Congress party grasped the implications of that mission, especially since U.S. House of Representatives Speaker Dennis Hastert – third in line to the presidency – and former president Jimmy Carter had announced plans to visit Kathmandu. The Chinese, meanwhile, were already delivering military supplies to the royal regime, undercutting New Delhi’s leverage.
The Singh government had to do something. It dispatched Karan Singh as an envoy to the king, who had returned to Kathmandu in the expectation of substantive Indian proposals.
Karan Singh, who had Shyam Saran and Pankaj Saran, the Nepal desk chief, in tow during each of his meetings with political and military leaders in Kathmandu, met the king alone.
The message of reconciliation the Indian envoy brought was not new. Karan Singh’s family ties to the Nepali royal family may have allowed him to hold candid discussions. However, he wasn’t able to assuage King Gyanendra’s concerns vis-à-vis the Maoists, particularly those relating to India’s real stance.
After all, the complications gripping the 2003 peace process were clearly rooted in India’s double game. The Nepali public, including those flooding the streets in April, had no way of knowing that. (Could India’s decision in 2003 to arrest Maoist leader C.P. Gajurel as he prepared to board a flight to London at the time King Gyanendra happened to be in the British capital have been coincidental?)
Nor were Nepalis familiar with the pressures India exerted on the palace to de-link the Maoist peace dimension from a royal takeover. It was precisely in anticipation of India’s double dealing that King Gyanendra chose to name himself head of government as well. Having failed to place their own confidante in the premiership, the Indians peddled the line that they had counseled the king against a takeover.
At Jakarta, three months after his takeover, King Gyanendra saw the necessity of personally explaining the contents of his talks with Prime Minister Singh. The monarch’s announcement in a television interview that New Delhi had agreed to lift the arms embargo may have bordered on diplomatic indiscretion. The palace considered more important the urgency of limiting the Indian establishment’s opportunities to play foul.
The next opportunity for a breakthrough arose when Rao Inderjit Singh, India’s junior foreign minister, arrived in Kathmandu to seek Nepal’s support for New Delhi’s bid to become a permanent member of the United Nations. The significance of Nepal’s support could be discounted only by those who did not understand the U.N.’s region-wise mechanism on building agendas.
Naturally, the palace sought – unsuccessfully – Indian support on resolving the Maoist insurgency. The royal regime told New Delhi it would put the request “under consideration.” In their disappointment, the Indians, in characteristic fashion, spun the story in an entirely different way.
Remember the Indian media hype that Prime Minister Singh was going to deliver a stern lecture to King Gyanendra on the sidelines of the Dhaka SAARC summit on the need to restore democracy? Well, the palace pre-empted that virtuous poppycock by spearheading the campaign to tie China’s inclusion as an observer with Afghanistan’s full membership of the South Asian organization.
From the Indian media as well as our own partisan outlets, this seemed like little more than a royal snub to New Delhi. Of course, the fact that Pakistan, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka rallied behind Nepal was unpalatable to the Indians for a host of reasons.
After the April Uprising, the palace must have anticipated the frequency with which the goal posts would be shifted throughout the peace process under Indian inspiration. Ceremonial monarchy, baby king, the republic-amendment to the interim constitution are different manifestations. The Nepali media, which can catch Maoist leader Prachanda inside the Indian Embassy, won’t report on the Indian ambassador’s forays into the palace with various overtures.
In his state of virtual suspension, King Gyanendra must have found it easy to decline offers of Indian hospitality – under such diverse covers as medical treatment for Crown Prince Paras and wedding invitations – because of his conviction that a positive Indian role would always remain central to Nepal’s well-being.
(Courtsy: Nepali Netbook)
Reports of an agreement primarily committing the SPA and the Maoists to the continuance of the monarchy have been circulating from the start. The king had made an oblique reference to the existence of such an undertaking in his conversation with journalist Hari Lamsal earlier this year. He had promised to speak in greater detail at the opportune time.
That time seems close at hand. Regardless of whether the constituent assembly elections are held on schedule this month, the monarch is expected use his Nepali New Year message to tell his side of the story.
Admittedly, it is unclear whether the agreement was oral or written. In the first case, the monarch would have a far greater challenge in providing credible evidence. In the latter, the resultant questions are no less vital. Was a formal agreement signed? If so, who were the signatories? If not, did the contracting sides depute representatives with full powers of attorney? Did General Pyar Jung Thapa, army chief at the time, do all the legwork? Or was royal secretary Pashupati Bhakta Maharjan the pointman? Were there witnesses, such as, say, foreign ambassadors who were active during the height of the April Uprising?
Clearly, the answers would have to come from the king. The response of SPA and Maoist leaders would then help to clarify a vital phase of current history. For now, we must rely on the king’s comment to Lamsal as well as a public comment Girija Prasad Koirala made on April 17, 2006.
Speaking to newslinenepal.com, Koirala provided what must be the most explicit undertaking that the Nepali Congress could get the Maoists to agree on a ceremonial monarchy if King Gyanendra reinstated the House of Representatives.
The fact that the 12-point agreement the Indians mediated between the SPA and the Maoists merely pledged to end an “autocratic” monarchy buttresses that reality. The same proviso underpinned the formula brought by Karan Singh, Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh’s special representative.
Now, as premier, Koirala and other partisans could argue that events overtook that pledge. However, it cannot diminish the fact that political events were spurred by that undertaking. Clearly, there was little else in terms of clarity than the continuance of the monarchy in New Delhi’s initiative. For proper context, it is essential to step back a couple of weeks.
King Gyanendra’s prolonged absence from Kathmandu was scorned as a stark symbol of royal aloofness. While at the royal retreat in Pokhara, the monarch certainly wasn’t donning “Christian Dior sunglasses and military uniforms, listening to Indian love songs and consulting astrologers,” as The Washington Post’s John Lancaster had us believe. If he “greeted supplicants in a ceremonial tent” and “boarded a French-made Puma helicopter for forays around the countryside,” it was part of his consultations.
More importantly, King Gyanendra sought to give the Indians time to get their act together. Consider the context. Washington, impatient with New Delhi’s deepening ambivalence on the crisis, was prepared to start its own initiative. The Bush administration had just created a wider South and Central Asian Bureau in line with its national security strategy.
Richard Boucher, the new assistant secretary of state, was in Delhi in the first week of April. While his public comments focused on the “failure” the royal takeover had proved to be, Boucher was vexed by the stranglehold Indian communist parties had on the Singh government’s Nepal policy. Sitaram Yechury & Company, for their part, were anxious to mainstream our Maoists before India’s own Naxals acquired enough fervor to choke the Kolkata communists.
The National Security Advisory Board saw mainstreamed Maoists in a more sinister light but was unable to come up with a credible roadmap. (The board continues to be headed by former foreign secretary Maharaja Krishna Rasgotra – who as ambassador to Nepal very discreetly oversaw B.P. Koirala’s return on a plea of national reconciliation and, before that, had served as King Tribhuvan’s liaison during his brief exile in India. He, along with another former ambassador, Krishna V. Rajan, had met with King Gyanendra before the October 4, 2002 dismissal of Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba.)
The Indian defense and home ministries were still having a hard time persuading the external affairs ministry of the Maoists’ capacity for mendacity in the democratic process. The palace knew that Foreign Secretary Shyam Saran had struck inextricable ties with the Kolkata Reds as a journalist long before he became India’s ambassador in Kathmandu.
The Bharatiya Janata Party, irked by the Singh government’s unwarranted indebtedness to Yechury & Co, announced it was sending former foreign minister Jaswant Singh for talks with King Gyanendra and the mainstream parties. Prime Minister Singh and his Congress party grasped the implications of that mission, especially since U.S. House of Representatives Speaker Dennis Hastert – third in line to the presidency – and former president Jimmy Carter had announced plans to visit Kathmandu. The Chinese, meanwhile, were already delivering military supplies to the royal regime, undercutting New Delhi’s leverage.
The Singh government had to do something. It dispatched Karan Singh as an envoy to the king, who had returned to Kathmandu in the expectation of substantive Indian proposals.
Karan Singh, who had Shyam Saran and Pankaj Saran, the Nepal desk chief, in tow during each of his meetings with political and military leaders in Kathmandu, met the king alone.
The message of reconciliation the Indian envoy brought was not new. Karan Singh’s family ties to the Nepali royal family may have allowed him to hold candid discussions. However, he wasn’t able to assuage King Gyanendra’s concerns vis-à-vis the Maoists, particularly those relating to India’s real stance.
After all, the complications gripping the 2003 peace process were clearly rooted in India’s double game. The Nepali public, including those flooding the streets in April, had no way of knowing that. (Could India’s decision in 2003 to arrest Maoist leader C.P. Gajurel as he prepared to board a flight to London at the time King Gyanendra happened to be in the British capital have been coincidental?)
Nor were Nepalis familiar with the pressures India exerted on the palace to de-link the Maoist peace dimension from a royal takeover. It was precisely in anticipation of India’s double dealing that King Gyanendra chose to name himself head of government as well. Having failed to place their own confidante in the premiership, the Indians peddled the line that they had counseled the king against a takeover.
At Jakarta, three months after his takeover, King Gyanendra saw the necessity of personally explaining the contents of his talks with Prime Minister Singh. The monarch’s announcement in a television interview that New Delhi had agreed to lift the arms embargo may have bordered on diplomatic indiscretion. The palace considered more important the urgency of limiting the Indian establishment’s opportunities to play foul.
The next opportunity for a breakthrough arose when Rao Inderjit Singh, India’s junior foreign minister, arrived in Kathmandu to seek Nepal’s support for New Delhi’s bid to become a permanent member of the United Nations. The significance of Nepal’s support could be discounted only by those who did not understand the U.N.’s region-wise mechanism on building agendas.
Naturally, the palace sought – unsuccessfully – Indian support on resolving the Maoist insurgency. The royal regime told New Delhi it would put the request “under consideration.” In their disappointment, the Indians, in characteristic fashion, spun the story in an entirely different way.
Remember the Indian media hype that Prime Minister Singh was going to deliver a stern lecture to King Gyanendra on the sidelines of the Dhaka SAARC summit on the need to restore democracy? Well, the palace pre-empted that virtuous poppycock by spearheading the campaign to tie China’s inclusion as an observer with Afghanistan’s full membership of the South Asian organization.
From the Indian media as well as our own partisan outlets, this seemed like little more than a royal snub to New Delhi. Of course, the fact that Pakistan, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka rallied behind Nepal was unpalatable to the Indians for a host of reasons.
After the April Uprising, the palace must have anticipated the frequency with which the goal posts would be shifted throughout the peace process under Indian inspiration. Ceremonial monarchy, baby king, the republic-amendment to the interim constitution are different manifestations. The Nepali media, which can catch Maoist leader Prachanda inside the Indian Embassy, won’t report on the Indian ambassador’s forays into the palace with various overtures.
In his state of virtual suspension, King Gyanendra must have found it easy to decline offers of Indian hospitality – under such diverse covers as medical treatment for Crown Prince Paras and wedding invitations – because of his conviction that a positive Indian role would always remain central to Nepal’s well-being.
(Courtsy: Nepali Netbook)
Enigma Of Electoral Arithmetic
If – and it’s still a big if – the constituent assembly elections are held as scheduled on April 10, it will be because of our two neighbors’ fervor to bid farewell to the United Nations mission in Nepal. If a contrived culmination of a nation’s quest for reinvention is what it takes to keep out international peace-mongers from the region for good, it’s worth every bit of artifice.
The latest bomb blasts in Kathmandu Valley – like other acts of violence in the run-up to the polls – can be conveniently blamed on a palace desperate to avoid the denouement. Harder to ignore is the anxiety of the leading political parties, which are in search of an excuse to postpone the imponderables of the polls.
Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala, facing a fractious party, is reportedly waiting until April 8 to make a final decision on whether to go ahead with the polls. The Unified Marxist-Leninists are intent on preventing the Maoists from claiming the mantle of the left. The Maoists, for their part, are flabbergasted as to why the UML feels so threatened.
Prachanda, whose marauders once proudly claimed to control 95 percent of the country, is forced to confine himself to the capital. The Maoist chairman can paranoically rail all he wants against everyone else, because this much is clear: death has come to haunt its greatest purveyor.
In his moments of reflection, Prachanda probably recognizes how easily he could have staked a middle ground between the Indians and Chinese and prospered. Unable to swim in clear waters after decades of subterraneous existence, he took the easy way out. He froze his feet on both boats. Neither neighbor trusts him to replace the king in the game of triangulation. For all their rivalry in Nepal, Beijing and Delhi believe they are better off keeping their brawl in the neighborhood. That’s the nub of the polls-at-all-costs credo.
The power equations and the second amendment to the interim statute – more than public opinion – makes a republic a foregone conclusion. Kamal Thapa’s Rastriya Prajatantra Party (Nepal) – the only organization advocating a monarchy – won’t be able to tap into the pro-monarchy sentiment most opinion polls see prevailing in half the country.
Surya Bahadur Thapa’s Rastriya Janashakti Party and Pashupati Shamsher Rana’s Rastriya Prajatantra Party are silent on the type of head of state they envisage. Recently, Thapa stunned many by proclaiming the end of the monarchy. But, we are told, he has made repeated representations to the palace claiming that he was misquoted.
Pashupati Rana would probably want to avenge the Shahs’ usurpation of his birthright to the Shogunate. The Chandra Shamsher-Juddha Shamsher bad blood ostensibly raises the stakes here. But with the Maoists and other lefties waging war on feudalism the proper noun, there is a chance that Rana would go further back in history to seek reconciliation. King Gyanendra and the RPP chief, after all, are great-great-grandsons of Dhir Shamsher.
Yet the two Thapas and Rana would be hard-pressed to match their united RPP’s showing in the 1994 mid-term elections, when it displaced the Maoist forerunner, United People’s Front, as the third largest group in parliament. The Madhesi parties are already royalists, we are constantly reminded. Since the Madhesis would make the same claim on the other parties, this dimension must be discounted as a variable. So officially, the numbers don’t add up for the palace.
And the palace has set its terms. Clever questioners may have sought to make a distinction between the person and the institution, but they can’t fool ordinary Nepalis. No one gets to choose a king. The construction of the line of succession in Nepal has made that an even stark no-no. If a majority of Nepalis want to throw the crown away with the wearer, fine. Lok sammati predates loktantra. Still, to quote Kamal Thapa, King Gyanendra believes he will be wearing the crown next year and after that. What does the monarch know that the rest of the country doesn’t?
Clearly, a Maoist boycott of the first session of the constituent assembly might give the Nepali Congress and the UML some voting leeway. But will that much-anticipated royal address on the real deal behind the reinstatement of the House of Representatives be enough for them to vote for the monarchy?
There are other imponderables. Take the proportionally elected members. Can they be held accountable to the republican manifestoes in the same way those directly elected are? Let’s say they’re off the whip. How will the Chaudharies, Murarkas and Tibrewallas vote? Will they remember a businessman prince whose regalia gave him an edge in all matters commercial? Or will they exhibit some kind of solidarity for a taxpaying king who would be fully immersed in the trade, barring the episodic ceremonialism he may be called upon to exercise? And let’s not even begin talking about the war-chest the Japanese have purportedly promised to open to save the king. (To save theirs in 1945, lest we forget, they let the Americans write their constitution.)
The directly elected representatives may not be set in so much concrete, either. The Nepali Congress and the UML could blame each other and the Maoists for faltering on the road to a republic and vote for a Koirala-introduced resolution on keeping the monarchy. If the Dixits, Pandeys and Pahadis would be unable to maintain civility in society, they can go back to wearing those black arm bands in and around Ratna Park.
So why is King Gyanendra confident? Because he knows that in politics, mathematical precision doesn’t always count. If it did, Hillary Clinton would have conceded the Democratic Party nomination for the US presidency to Barak Obama long ago. Maybe former president and super-delegate Jimmy Carter might want to go to Narayanhity Palace to compare notes for the Denver Convention.
(Courtsy:Nepali Netbook)
The latest bomb blasts in Kathmandu Valley – like other acts of violence in the run-up to the polls – can be conveniently blamed on a palace desperate to avoid the denouement. Harder to ignore is the anxiety of the leading political parties, which are in search of an excuse to postpone the imponderables of the polls.
Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala, facing a fractious party, is reportedly waiting until April 8 to make a final decision on whether to go ahead with the polls. The Unified Marxist-Leninists are intent on preventing the Maoists from claiming the mantle of the left. The Maoists, for their part, are flabbergasted as to why the UML feels so threatened.
Prachanda, whose marauders once proudly claimed to control 95 percent of the country, is forced to confine himself to the capital. The Maoist chairman can paranoically rail all he wants against everyone else, because this much is clear: death has come to haunt its greatest purveyor.
In his moments of reflection, Prachanda probably recognizes how easily he could have staked a middle ground between the Indians and Chinese and prospered. Unable to swim in clear waters after decades of subterraneous existence, he took the easy way out. He froze his feet on both boats. Neither neighbor trusts him to replace the king in the game of triangulation. For all their rivalry in Nepal, Beijing and Delhi believe they are better off keeping their brawl in the neighborhood. That’s the nub of the polls-at-all-costs credo.
The power equations and the second amendment to the interim statute – more than public opinion – makes a republic a foregone conclusion. Kamal Thapa’s Rastriya Prajatantra Party (Nepal) – the only organization advocating a monarchy – won’t be able to tap into the pro-monarchy sentiment most opinion polls see prevailing in half the country.
Surya Bahadur Thapa’s Rastriya Janashakti Party and Pashupati Shamsher Rana’s Rastriya Prajatantra Party are silent on the type of head of state they envisage. Recently, Thapa stunned many by proclaiming the end of the monarchy. But, we are told, he has made repeated representations to the palace claiming that he was misquoted.
Pashupati Rana would probably want to avenge the Shahs’ usurpation of his birthright to the Shogunate. The Chandra Shamsher-Juddha Shamsher bad blood ostensibly raises the stakes here. But with the Maoists and other lefties waging war on feudalism the proper noun, there is a chance that Rana would go further back in history to seek reconciliation. King Gyanendra and the RPP chief, after all, are great-great-grandsons of Dhir Shamsher.
Yet the two Thapas and Rana would be hard-pressed to match their united RPP’s showing in the 1994 mid-term elections, when it displaced the Maoist forerunner, United People’s Front, as the third largest group in parliament. The Madhesi parties are already royalists, we are constantly reminded. Since the Madhesis would make the same claim on the other parties, this dimension must be discounted as a variable. So officially, the numbers don’t add up for the palace.
And the palace has set its terms. Clever questioners may have sought to make a distinction between the person and the institution, but they can’t fool ordinary Nepalis. No one gets to choose a king. The construction of the line of succession in Nepal has made that an even stark no-no. If a majority of Nepalis want to throw the crown away with the wearer, fine. Lok sammati predates loktantra. Still, to quote Kamal Thapa, King Gyanendra believes he will be wearing the crown next year and after that. What does the monarch know that the rest of the country doesn’t?
Clearly, a Maoist boycott of the first session of the constituent assembly might give the Nepali Congress and the UML some voting leeway. But will that much-anticipated royal address on the real deal behind the reinstatement of the House of Representatives be enough for them to vote for the monarchy?
There are other imponderables. Take the proportionally elected members. Can they be held accountable to the republican manifestoes in the same way those directly elected are? Let’s say they’re off the whip. How will the Chaudharies, Murarkas and Tibrewallas vote? Will they remember a businessman prince whose regalia gave him an edge in all matters commercial? Or will they exhibit some kind of solidarity for a taxpaying king who would be fully immersed in the trade, barring the episodic ceremonialism he may be called upon to exercise? And let’s not even begin talking about the war-chest the Japanese have purportedly promised to open to save the king. (To save theirs in 1945, lest we forget, they let the Americans write their constitution.)
The directly elected representatives may not be set in so much concrete, either. The Nepali Congress and the UML could blame each other and the Maoists for faltering on the road to a republic and vote for a Koirala-introduced resolution on keeping the monarchy. If the Dixits, Pandeys and Pahadis would be unable to maintain civility in society, they can go back to wearing those black arm bands in and around Ratna Park.
So why is King Gyanendra confident? Because he knows that in politics, mathematical precision doesn’t always count. If it did, Hillary Clinton would have conceded the Democratic Party nomination for the US presidency to Barak Obama long ago. Maybe former president and super-delegate Jimmy Carter might want to go to Narayanhity Palace to compare notes for the Denver Convention.
(Courtsy:Nepali Netbook)
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