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Who will be occupying Singhadurbar in a month? No one cares. It should not be that way. If KP Oli fails as a pandemic-time prime minister, people should believe Sher Bahadur Deuba or Pushpa Kamal Dahal, the two most likely candidates to replace him, might do a better job.­ Sadly, that too is not the case. Whether Oli remains prime minister or whether Deuba replaces him, Covid-19 will continue to push the country to the brink. This lack of options is a damning indictment of our democratic process and its principal actors. 

In the US, the incoming Biden administration was able to turn around the country’s dismal Covid-19 record, successfully mobilizing the country’s health resources and persuading millions of Americans to shed their vaccine skepticism. Now most states in the US are largely corona-free. Biden’s leadership—high on action and accountability—was in stark contrast to Donald Trump’s—given to peddling pseudoscience and white nationalism. The choice between Biden and Trump could not have been starker. 

No such choice is available to us. The country will most likely have an election, sooner rather than later. But the public is in no mood to vote. In a recent Niti Foundation survey of those aged 18-40 conducted across the country, fully 44 percent had zero interest in politics, while another 40 percent expressed only ‘some’ interest. Such widespread dissatisfaction with the political class among the country’s most productive workforce is not a healthy sign for the new federal republic. As the Covid-19 crisis worsens, this skepticism will further increase. What is to be done then?

There are no easy choices. But if our political parties are committed to helping the country emerge from the corona quagmire, there is no alternative to forging a broad political consensus, the kind seen in the immediate aftermath of the 2006 Jana Andolan. Back then, the political consensus was aimed at removing the vestiges of monarchy, helping the country transition to peace, and cementing progressive changes. Arguably, the country faces an even bigger crisis today. What better time to revive that old spirit of consensual politics?

Such a consensus has become vital not just to combat corona. The democratic system itself is at risk. If a democratic government cannot deliver during a grave national crisis, do we at all need democracy, people are asking? It is up to our main political actors—CPN-UML, Nepali Congress, CPN (Maoist Center), and JSPN—to remove their skepticism by showing that they can set aside political squabbles and again work together in the national interest. Otherwise, they will leave the space open for demagogues who can justifiably blame the political class for its collective failure on corona-control. (It won’t matter that the Oli government is largely responsible for the unfolding crisis.) The legitimacy of the entire political setup will be questioned. 

Such political consensus is a long way off. But that should not stop our political actors from trying. After all, who would have thought that our querulous politicians—the same ones who had so badly debased national politics in the 1990s—could work together in the national interest? Back then, the common enemy was the autocratic monarchy; right now, it’s a deadly virus. 

Prime Minister KP Oli for once made sense and appeared statesmanly during his May 3 address to the country. Making a U-turn from his earlier public stand that Covid-19 was an innocuous disease that responded to ingestion of turmeric and boiled guava leaves, this time, speaking from inside a glass box and through a surgical mask, he appealed to the people to take the virus seriously. Oli also urged them not to heed rumors and to only listen to experts. He rounded off by expressing his government’s seriousness in combating Covid-19—in English. 

A calculated performance it was, coming hot on the heels of his promise of seeking a vote of confidence in the federal lower house—a vote he could very well lose. If he does, Oli could announce fresh elections in six months. As the number of daily infections and deaths mount, Oli seems to have realized that his pitch of an ‘easy virus’ could backfire as an electoral strategy. People now want the truth, however painful, and expect their prime minister to lead the anti-virus crusade. There could be no better vote-garnering strategy right now than honoring that expectation. 

Oli knows that even though he may lose the parliamentary vote, an alternative candidate is not on the horizon. The only viable candidate, Sher Bahadur Deuba of Nepali Congress, does not seem interested in taking over when there is a high chance of him being discredited for mishandling the pandemic. Better to stay in opposition and continue pointing fingers at Oli. The Oli government’s failure on corona-control, Deuba reckons, will be to the electoral advantage of Nepali Congress. Moreover, he could better plot his comeback as party president from outside the government.   

Relations between Oli and New Delhi continue to thaw, partly because of Oli’s foot-dragging on the BRI and his support for the MCC compact, a part of the broader US Indo-Pacific Strategy. Oli’s support for China was always exaggerated: He was only cashing in on the anti-India public sentiment in the aftermath of the 2015-16 border blockade. Otherwise, Oli’s relations with the South Block have always been top-notch. 

Deuba understands India will not look kindly on him if he disturbs New Delhi’s new Nepal strategy. This, in his calculation, will make it difficult for him to keep the party presidency and return to PM’s chair.

However you see it, Oli seems to be in it for the long haul. Even with his checkered governance history, the master strategist is banking on people’s immediate electoral dilemma. Will they vote for Nepali Congress under Sher Bahadur Deuba, the four-time, largely ineffectual prime minister? How likely are they to back a Dahal-Nepal coalition that has no other agenda than to unseat Oli?

The electorate will continue to be divided in the upcoming elections, and Oli could very well benefit from it again. 

The prime minister regularly cites unproven Covid-19 cures—salt-water gargle, turmeric consumption, various nasal exercises. This has added to people’s sense of complacency. For the more scientifically minded, such antics reduce their trust in his government. KP Oli’s party, CPN-UML, still holds political gatherings in the presence of many unmasked attendees. No wonder government exhortations to the public to take the contagion seriously and adopt safety measures have fallen on deaf ears. They have simply stopped trusting government officials. 

The opposition parties should have held the government to account on its criminal neglect of public safety. Yet the leaders of Nepali Congress, CPN (Maoist Center) and Janata Samajbadi Party too have failed to convince their electorates on the virus. Nor have they stopped organizing political gatherings, again in violation of Covid-19 safety norms, even as they harangue the Oli government for its failures on contagion-control.

If our political parties cannot help the country deal with its most pressing problem in generations, it bears asking: what good are they? How can they claim to work in public interest? Moreover, the rulers, across the party lines, are seen as representing the interests of only a small segment of the society. People from other ethnic and class groups thus view those in power with deep suspicion. 

I can't think of a single top political leader today who commands broad public support. The main problem is our senior politicians’ sense of entitlement and their failure to see beyond pure power politics. 

As the country battles a deadly pandemic, their focus continues to be to either hold on to power or, for others, to get there, which unfortunately is the ultimate goal of their politics—no, no higher purpose to serve for this elderly bunch. The generation of leaders currently at the helm cite the sacrifices they have made—most notably, their long years in prison—for the cause of democracy. They act as if the state ought to repay their dues. 

No top Nepali leader is thinking about building a constituency by saving people’s lives from the deadly pandemic. They are either ignoring the pandemic or trying to twist it to their political advantage. PM Oli wanted to use the pandemic to prolong his tenure, Prachanda sought to unseat him citing the government’s failure to tackle Covid-19, and Deuba is now hoping to keep his party presidency by indefinitely putting off vital NC gatherings. Other leaders of big and small parties have acted no better. 

People are irrational. It is the duty of political leaders to make them see reason, even when people don’t want to see sense. Yet Nepali leaders who command attention, including the Kumbh-returnee ex-king, have, in this time of national crisis, been busy pandering to people’s basest instincts to boost their public image. The health and wellbeing of the people they claim to represent are really irrelevant. The Covid-19 pandemic has again exposed the narrow horizons of our political leaders who are working for themselves and no one else.  

Four years after Nepal and the US signed the MCC compact, we are back to square one. Those who believed in 2017 that the compact was a devil’s bargain continue to be dead-set against it. The camp pushing it is as adamant about the great good the compact, once ratified, can do for Nepal.

With the Nepal Communist Party government’s near two-thirds majority—while only a simple majority would be needed for the compact’s parliamentary approval—it should have had no trouble getting it passed. But a party faction intent on pulling the rug from under PM Oli would have none of it. Those in this faction saw in the compact American imperial designs writ large. Not coincidentally, the compact’s strongest opponents have also traditionally been seen as China’s biggest enablers in Nepal.   

The MCC compact, as its opponents allege, is indeed a part of the American Indo-Pacific Strategy that is aimed at curtailing China’s rise. For the same reason, in principle, I am opposed to the idea of its parliamentary approval. How can our national legislature approve a pact aimed at one of our only two neighbors? In practice, I don’t see the compact’s ratification as a big issue. In fact, having signed the compact, Nepal would do well to ratify it too.

But I am being two-faced, right? Perhaps. Yet the reality is that Nepal will have to keep engaging with the Americans in the foreseeable future. The reason we established diplomatic ties with the US in 1947 was to use the country as a counterweight to India and China, both of whose influence in Nepal was growing alarmingly. Only through the involvement of a powerful third party like the US, the thinking went, could Nepal preserve its independence. That logic still holds. Can’t Nepal engage with the Americans under some other agreement? We could. But again, there will be no substantive difference.

If not the MCC, we will have to sign on to something similar, for the chief goal of the American foreign policy in Asia will continue to be to check communist China’s rise by supporting democracies in the region, India chiefly. So either Nepal has to stop engaging with the Americans, or we have to agree to do business along mutually beneficial lines. Again, American involvement in Nepal is vital not only to balance China’s presence but also to keep India honest. There is a reason India has always loathed the presence of a third power in its traditional backyard. 

There are no free lunches in international diplomacy and it would be naïve of Nepal to expect one. Moreover, the fundamentals of Nepali foreign policy have not changed and it is in Nepali national interest to widen our options beyond India and China. You don’t have to like the Americans. All that matters is the protection of our national interests in what is a tough geopolitical landscape. Regrettably, the MCC compact has been turned into a political football that has little to do with American foreign policy and a lot with Nepal’s internal power dynamics.

Also strange is our political leaders’ lack of faith in the sovereign parliament. Let the democratic process prevail. And for god’s sake, stop seeing the MCC as a life or death issue for Nepal. It’s not. Again, not a big fan of it but we can’t have our cake and eat it too.

I am a big fan of Robert D. Kaplan. The American journalist-cum-scholar has perfected the art of weaving an expansive geopolitical narrative based on his extensive travel, a deep study of history, access to the right people and unique insight. Even if you don’t see through his Realist lens, you cannot but marvel at the hard work put into his books, each dripping with untrammeled enthusiasm for his chosen area of study. Reading Amish Raj Mulmi’s new book ‘All Roads Lead North: Nepal’s Turn to China’ reminded me of Kaplan’s works.

Both take in broad sweeps of history to make their case, and each leavens the heavy history bits with on-the-ground anecdotes. But there are also important differences. While in his writing Kaplan is palpably bubbling with enthusiasm, Mulmi adopts the tone of a more detached observer. Another difference is that Mulmi relies more on historical archives than on his travels or conversations with powers-that-be. (The author has not been to China save for his visit to a tiny border area.)

One of the first things that strikes you about the book is its neutral tone, as Mulmi holds back from asking Nepal to pick and choose between China, India and the US, the three main foreign powers discussed. Making extensive use of archival records in India and Nepal as well as the CIA’s declassified documents, Mulmi draws an arc of China’s progressively heavier engagement in Nepal. Over time, it becomes a story of the Communist Party of China appropriating Nepal’s traditional links with Tibet.

In the name of balancing India, Nepali political establishment has moved closer to Beijing. To appease the dragon, it has cracked down on Tibetan activities. Harking back to the era Mao’s red buttons were ubiquitous in Nepal, Xi Jinping too seems minded to export his ideology on the back of his signature Belt and Road Initiative. Thus, as China pledges billions of dollars in grants and loans, Nepali ruling class has to agree to be trained on ‘Xi Jinping thought’, and to blindly back China on Taiwan, Tibet and Hong Kong.

But the book’s deterministic title is also a touch misleading. Even Mulmi concedes that as Chinese influence has shot up, the Nepali political class is still in a position to calibrate its relation with the northern neighbor. He wants them to do so to their country’s benefit. “[Relations with China]… need to be sustained, nurtured and developed as they evolve,” Mulmi writes. “It is in Nepal’s interest to do so, and imperative to do it in a way that acknowledges its own aspirations.” This means engaging China in Nepal’s development process while also being aware of the risks of unquestioningly doing the dragon’s bidding. 

It won’t be easy. For instance, the author advises the Nepali government to engage with Chinese people and “not just its unitary government system… [to] fully realize the potential of Nepal’s budding economic relationship with the country.” But how can Nepal directly engage the people of China whose lives, and especially their dealings with the outside world, are controlled by the CCP? Nor is the tiny Nepali state in a position to bargain with the Chinese colossus on this.

Mulmi travels to various places on the northern border to grasp how the Chinese influence is seeping into Nepal. He also talks to ex-Nepali businesspersons who previously worked in Lhasa, Tibetan refugees in Nepal including former Khampa rebels, and Mustang locals to knit together the long history of China’s engagement in Nepal.

His argument is that Nepal’s turn to China did not start with the 2015 border blockade; it was a process set in motion by a long history of Nepal’s relations with Tibet, the Chinese emperors and then, after Tibet’s annexation, with the communist China. The author relies on the CIA’s declassified files from the second half of the 20^th century to gain a better understanding of the triangular Nepal-India-China relations—and there are quite a few revelations.

A central theme runs through most of Kaplan’s books: all discussions on international relations must start with geography. This couldn’t be truer in the case of Nepal, which finds itself precariously sandwiched between its two giant neighbors. Yet Kaplan also believes that wise leaders can minimize the effects of geography and even use it to their country’s advantage, as did Lee Kwan Yew in Singapore’s case. And this is what Mulmi is advocating for. Given Nepal’s perilous location, its leaders have to show foresight in charting its foreign policy course.

All Roads Lead North is perhaps the most readable book in English to date on Nepal’s contemporary relations with China. For its deep scholarship, ease of reading, and a historical perspective of Nepal-China relations, the book will be read by generations to come, by scholars and non-scholars alike.

Non-fiction

All Roads Lead North: Nepal’s Turn to China

Amish Raj Mulmi

Publisher: Context

Pages: 290

Last week, a Kathmandu-based Thai diplomat came to talk to me about BIMSTEC. He sought my views on the way forward for the organization, with Thailand now on the cusp of taking over its rotating chairmanship. I am by no means an expert on BIMSTEC, but then who in Nepal is? Compared to their knowledge on SAARC, even seasoned foreign policy analysts here know little about BIMSTEC, mostly out of choice. 

Nepali foreign policy establishment and analysts are reluctant to own up BIMSTEC, something they see as an Indian construct that is being promoted to isolate Pakistan, India’s arch-enemy. By contrast, they feel a kind of kinship towards SAARC, an outcome of collective effort of smaller countries in the region, mainly Nepal and Bangladesh. India is promoting BIMSTEC to secure its larger strategic interests, the thinking goes, while the interests of smaller South Asian states is best secured via the SAARC channels. 

BIMSTEC is getting a charter after over two decades of its formation, and India is pushing for its greater institutionalization. But it won’t make headway so long as smaller countries like Bangladesh, Bhutan, Nepal and Sri Lanka (all members of both SAARC and BIMSTEC) remain suspicious of Indian intent. It’s not just about intent either. Prior Indian commitments on connectivity projects and infrastructure development have been mostly unrealized. This is in contrast to the reputation of China as an actor that gets things done, and one which has a much bigger investment purse. 

This is also why many in Nepal believe BIMSTEC is all about minimizing China’s presence in the neighborhood, not the least because of the country’s unwavering support for Pakistan. India had grown increasingly suspicious of SAARC after Nepal and Pakistan started pushing for China’s inclusion as a full member. India, as even Indian commentator acknowledge, had to somehow take Pakistan out of the picture, and hence BIMSTEC.   

Conceptually, there is nothing wrong with any initiative that aims to lift people’s living standards through greater connectivity and trade. Historically, too, South Asia and South East Asia have since time immemorial exchanged people and ideas. Yet the hard reality today is that India has simply refused to open its territory for third-country trade. Nepal and Bangladesh are, at their closest, just 27 km apart. But trade between them remains miniscule partly owing to India’s reluctance to allow the two countries to open a passage via its ‘chicken neck’. This narrow piece of land connecting mainland India with its northeast territories has become an even more sensitive place—and thus more impervious to outsiders—following the recent India-China border tensions. 

If Nepal cannot freely trade with Bangladesh, can it realistically hope to do so with Myanmar and Thailand, either via land or rail routes? BIMSTEC is not just about cross-border trade. All kinds of other co-operations are envisioned in areas as diverse as fishery to climate change. Yet no regional grouping can today prosper without extensive exchange of goods and people, as is the case with more successful regional bodies like ASEAN and EU.  

As the fulcrum between the two regions and by far the biggest economic power in the grouping, the onus is on India to show it is serious about regional trade and connectivity. It must also do a better job of assuring smaller countries on delivery. SAARC has always been hobbled by India-Pakistan rivalry. BIMSTEC, on the other hand, has been hostage to India’s lack of strategic vision. One can only hope that the compulsions of economic revival after the Covid-19 pandemic will prompt a rethink in New Delhi. 

In a recent interview with nepalpress.com, an online news portal, Prime Minster KP Oli unconditionally condemned the bloody crackdown on Myanmar’s peaceful protests. He wished for swift restoration of the democratic process and the country’s return to normalcy. It was not Nepal’s official statement on a foreign country. But the statement of one country’s head of government on another country, wherever it is made, must be considered the position of his government.

This hasn’t stopped Nepali Congress and JSPN lawmakers from asking for a formal government statement on Myanmar, where the military has shot dead at least 500 people. Separately, a group of civil society members have called on Nepal to join international efforts to make the Burmese junta accountable for its murderous rampage. The high level of public and intellectual support in Nepal for Myanmar’s pro-democracy protestors partly owes to the large Nepali diaspora there. The presence of an estimated 300,000 Burmese of Nepali origin in Burma can be traced back to the Second World War when they fought there on behalf of the British.

Our earnest wishes aside, the country of 54 million that has always been under the shadow of its powerful military is unlikely to revert to democratic rule soon. Some smaller democracies in the region—especially the ones that don’t share a border with Myanmar—may speak out against the atrocities there. As will leading global liberal powers like the US and the EU. But the two countries that are best placed to effect change in Myanmar—China and India, in that order—will remain mum.

The largest democracy in the world has sealed its lips, nay, it even participated in an army parade in Naypyidaw on the bloodiest day of the military crackdown on unarmed people. As more and more countries turn inwards, strategic calculations have come to prevail over humanitarian ones even in liberal societies. India fears Myanmar could be slipping into complete control of China, which is already Myanmar’s largest trading partner as well as the biggest source of its FDI. An overt stand against the junta, India fears, could make the country tighten its embrace of China. Not to forget, the junta also has the power to foment unrest in the northeastern Indian states bordering Myanmar.   

China and the Burmese military are not the best of pals these days. Beijing believes the junta is placing unnecessary hurdles before crucial BRI projects, partly to prove its nationalist credentials. The Chinese will nonetheless be loath to let the international community dictate terms in Myanmar, even if it’s for the noblest cause. As Beijing sees it, what happens in Myanmar could be repeated in Taiwan or Hong Kong. So China, as well as Vladimir Putin’s anti-Western Russia— and another permanent member of the UN Security Council—won’t allow the Security Council to take strict measures against the junta.

Has the narrative of absolute national sovereignty gained such traction in global affairs that all possible humanitarian interventions abroad will look dubious from now on? Some Madhesi lawmakers in Nepal compared events in Myanmar today to what has happened in Madhes during its various uprisings. Is that a credible comparison, and will such comparisons help or hinder the cause of the Burmese people? The comparison also raises another important uncomfortable question: what should be the grounds for foreign intervention in Nepal on humanitarian grounds?

In a 2020 interview with ApEx, Mashfee Binte Shams, Bangladesh’s outgoing ambassador to Nepal, had pointed out the culprit behind the paucity of bilateral trade: “Businesspeople in Bangladesh think of Nepal as a very small and hence an unprofitable export market. They think Nepali markets are dominated by Indian exports… In the case of Nepali people, they think Bangladesh is a poor, starving, poverty-ridden country which does not have purchasing power”. Perceptions die hard. There was thus skepticism over the recent state visit of President Bidya Devi Bhandari to Bangladesh. 

The two countries at their closest are just 27 km apart, making Bangladesh Nepal’s second closest neighbor after India. Bilateral trade between them was worth just over Rs 6 billion in 2019/2020, with Nepal importing nearly five times as much as it was exporting to Bangladesh in this time. Trade experts say the volume could easily rise tenfold. By 2040, Bangladesh hopes to import 9,000 MW of electricity from Nepal, and has already pledged over $1 billion for hydropower development here. A Nepal-India-Bangladesh power transfer agreement is in place as well. 

Yet progress in bilateral relations has been slow, partly because of India. New Delhi has been reluctant to give free passage to goods between Nepal and Bangladesh over security concerns. The 27-km stretch between the two countries falls within India’s ‘chicken-neck’, the narrow strip of land connecting mainland India and its northeastern states. The corridor also touches Bhutan and China’s Tibet. Heightened India-China border tensions could further restrict free movement in this region. 

This means Nepal and Bangladesh will continue to feel unjustly victimized by the regional ‘big brother’. It was in order to collectively fight India’s regional hegemony that the two countries took the initiative for the formation of the seven-country SAARC in late 1970s. If smaller countries in the region didn’t together fight for their interests, they calculated, India would continue to expand its hegemony at their expense. China was not a big part of their calculus back then. It is now. 

The establishments in both Nepal and Bangladesh feel secure in China’s embrace. Make no mistake. They also want cordial ties with India. It could hardly be otherwise given their historical legacies and their location. But China has emerged as a partner of choice for an increasingly authoritarian Sheikh Hasina government, who is getting all the money she needs from China, no questions asked. To an extent, the same dynamic is at play in Nepal, which too has long chaffed at being surrounded—in every imaginable way—by India. 

China has emerged as a useful bargaining chip for them. India has been reluctant to open its chicken-neck for more Nepal-Bangladesh trade. But it has had to concede that if it does not facilitate regional integration and trade under its watch, China will do so under its own initiative like the BRI. This explains the greater willingness in New Delhi for regional connectivity initiatives (minus Pakistan).  

Rivalry between big powers often opens up maneuver-room for smaller actors. The old axiom that Nepal will not look to play off India against China is repeated so often precisely because we are not being completely honest with India, and they know it. Yet India often plays along because of its own limited hard power and the improbability of stopping China’s rise. Tactful diplomacy in Kathmandu and Dhaka could thus open many new opportunities for bilateral trade, travel and investment.