Tulsi Giri also stopped enjoying the minister’s post, and suddenly announced yet another resignation on 25 January 1965. Frustrated with Giri’s repeated resignations, King Mahendra wanted to appoint Surya Bahadur Thapa as the chair of the cabinet. Thapa, however, was of the view that Giri should not be released from the government. He advised Giri to reconsider, arguing that a rash decision to quit would be unwise and that the Panchayat rule had to be directed to its logical conclusion.

But Giri did not relent, and the palace approved his resignation and appointed Surya Bahadur Thapa as the cabinet chair on the same day. In 2013, yours truly had had a long conversation with Thapa on the Panchayat regime.

Thapa said that Giri had not heeded the request to stay put as he thought the palace did not listen to him. “You had convinced me earlier to go back to the govern­ment. The king does not listen to our views, so I won’t go back this time,” Tulsi Giri had said to Surya Bahadur Thapa.

When Giri turned away from the Panchayat system, the palace left no stone unturned to destroy him. Giri opted out of the cabinet, but he still wanted to be a National Pan­chayat member, someone chosen from among members of the District Panchayat. To that end, he sought to contest the 1967 elections from Janakpur. Astonishingly, he could not find a proposer.

He saw the palace’s hand in that. Shortly after, he put out a statement, saying that the Panchayat regime was a vessel without a bottom and could topple at any moment. Besides, he started speaking foully—even using expletives—against Surya Bahadur Thapa. “What can that Surya Bahadur do?” Giri remarked. Things got so bad that Thapa had Giri arrested in Janakpur in April 1968 and imprisoned in Mahottari among criminal inmates. Giri sent a letter to the palace, requesting it to treat him like a political prisoner. He was released after three months on 8 July 1968.

Giri was known for his colorful and lavish lifestyle. Among his inter­ests were palaces, cars, cameras, watches, and women. He built a rather unconventional house, well known throughout the Panchayat era as ‘The flying house’, at Sanepa Height. When he did not have a political post, Giri used to actively deal in classic vintage cars and old Rana palaces.

Businessmen who understood Giri gifted him watches and cameras. A Russian prime minister had even sent him a Volga car as a present. Many bureaucrats, politicians and businessmen used to envy Giri’s colorful life.

Next week’s ‘Vault of History’ column will discuss Tulsi Giri’s relationship with King Birendra

Tulsi Giri was such a staunch supporter of the monarchy that he once said in a speech, “If His Maj­esty so orders, I can even walk around wearing a saree and lipstick.” This statement was famous throughout the Panchayat rule.

The Narayanhiti Palace main­tained secret assessments of people it could exploit. It used people when they were needed and discarded them when they outlived their utility. According to an assessment made pub­lic by Rewati Raman Khanal, former chief secretary of the Narayanhiti Palace, “Dr. Tulsi Giri is a sharp Arabian horse. It will take you to your destina­tion. It recognizes the riders, but can cause them to fall if it is not properly reined in. (‘Rewati Raman Khanal, Anubhuti ra abhibyakti’, page 15).

The palace’s assessment of Bishwa Bandhu Thapa, on the other hand, was that he was impatient and unstable—which did reflect his political behavior. According to Khanal: “Bishwa Bandhu Thapa is a brass vessel; it won’t leak even when it’s filled to the brim with water. But it can topple. It must be clasped. In other words, it should not be let go. It is one that will always remain useful.”

Giri was good at logical argu­ments and he had gift of gab. Thapa, on the other hand, was diligent, creative and adept at immediately drawing up a framework for any topic. So journalists who opposed the Panchayat regime compared Giri to a horse and Thapa to a donkey.

Giri did turn out to be a sharp horse for the palace. But the palace could not always rein him in. As a result, Giri’s political life underwent several upheavals; at times it even sank into a quag­mire. Sometimes Giri was at the center of the Panchayat system, but at other times he was side­lined or even jailed.

From a minister, Giri went on to be the deputy chair and, on 2 April 1963, the chair of the cab­inet. A few weeks later, Thapa was appointed the chair of the National Panchayat. Cabinet meetings were held at Narayan­hiti Palace under the king’s chairmanship; they started tak­ing place at Singha Durbar after Giri took over.

Consequently, Giri got to meet and socialize with the king less often. In contrast to earlier times, Mahendra started pay­ing less attention to Giri and Thapa—so much so that the two had to make a request to the palace secretary for an audience with the king. Giri, who was used to wielding power from the time of his proximity to BP, became disappointed when the king stopped bestowing favors on him.

Giri suddenly resigned on 23 December 1963, ostensibly on health grounds. The real rea­son, however, was that he was unhappy with the lack of king’s attention. There was specula­tion that his resignation would create a crisis in Panchayat pol­itics. As it was the initial phase of the Panchayat system, King Mahendra lacked people of Giri’s caliber.

Meanwhile, Surya Bahadur Thapa, then deputy chair of the cabinet, played the role of a mediator. He frequented Dr Giri’s house in Hattisar and told him: “Leaving in the middle like this would spell the end of the Panchayat regime. And people would blame us.”

Owing to Thapa’s frequent efforts, Giri returned as the cabinet chair on 26 February 1964. The two had forged a strong bond. In that era, people called Surya Bahadur Thapa the ‘hazuria’ of Tulsi Giri—meaning Thapa was extremely loyal to Giri.

But Mahendra was scared Giri could betray him at any time and thus formulated a strategy to groom Giri’s heir. So despite his unwillingness, Mahen­dra on 5 July 1964 appointed Bishwa Bandhu Thapa, the chair of the National Pancha­yat, as the first deputy chair of the cabinet. Surya Bahadur Thapa was made the second deputy chair.

Next week’s ‘Vault of History’ column will discuss Tulsi Giri’s personal life, including his inter­ests in cars, cameras, watches and women

Both Giri and Thapa were trans­formed from ‘BP’s swift horses’ into ‘Mahendra’s horses’. They were firmly established in the public imagination as the primary abettors of the royal coup that killed the multiparty system. Citing Giri and Thapa, people talked about the ero­sion of trust in politics.

Thapa was on a tour of the US at the time of the coup. He was arrested—for show—when he came back. But after a few days, he was included in the list of ministers. Thapa had grown up with the Koiralas from the time the two families were in exile in India during the Rana era.

While Thapa had fought against the Rana rule, Giri had suddenly risen in national politics after the dawn of democracy in 1951. The son of a wealthy landlord from the south-eastern district of Siraha, Giri had come to Kath­mandu in the early 1950s to practice medicine. While Giri had his own car, BP did not. The two forged a deep relationship in the course of travelling together in Giri’s car, which helped him become the Congress’s deputy general secretary and then general secretary in just a couple of years.

But Giri and Thapa turned into figures who would develop the political philosophy of the Panchayat system, formu­late its plans and policies, and create an environment unfavorable for the Nepali Con­gress. Thapa could not always remain hewed to the Pancha­yat; he kept switching alle­giance between the multiparty and the Panchayat systems. In the early stages, Thapa was a dyed-in-the-wool Pancha, but he gradually changed his view and argued in favor of a multi­party system. But Giri was con­vinced that a multiparty system could not go hand in hand with the monarchy.

Before 1959, Giri was a strong critic of the monarchy. While he was the Congress general secre­tary, he had published a piece critical of the monarchy entitled ‘Desh, naresh ra janata’ (Country, king and people) in the party’s mouthpiece Nepal Pukar. Follow­ing the publication of the article, Nepal Pukar was banned and its editor fined. Earlier, Giri could not write in Nepali; it was Thapa who translated Giri’s writings in Hindi into Nepali.

Throughout the Pancha­yat reign, Giri was considered a leading figure of the illiberal camp—even though the palace used him at times to further its own interests, and left no stone unturned at other times to destroy him. Giri, on the other hand, kept bestowing favors on the palace even until his twilight years. As a result, Giri got the appellation of the ‘mother’ of the Panchayat system.

Next week’s ‘Vault of History’ column will discuss the reason Tulsi Giri’s relationship with King Mahendra soureda

Up until the royal coup on 15 December 1960, Dr. Tulsi Giri and Bishwa Bandhu Thapa were considered the eyes and ears of Bishweshwar Prasad Koirala. Others thought of Giri and Thapa as BP’s ‘swift horses’. BP formed opinions and acted on them based on the inputs of the duo. While Giri was a master of logic, Thapa was adept at coming up with new ideas and writing about them. As both acted strictly in accordance with BP’s strategy, they were considered his yes-men. Both were ambitious.

The veteran politician duo of the Panchayat regime, Giri and Thapa lived in BP’s home—and slept in the same room—until BP became prime minister in May 1959. Both had already assumed the role of the Nepali Congress General Secretary. Giri did not contest the first parliamentary polls of 1959 as he was not interested in fighting elections. Thapa, on the other hand, insisted that he be given a ticket to contest the election from Chitwan. Giri supported Thapa’s claim to the ticket, and Thapa got it, at the expense of Bakhan Singh Gurung, the rightful claimant.

When the Congress won the country’s first parliamentary election with a two-third majority, Giri became a deputy minister and a member of the upper house, and Thapa the party’s chief whip. BP made good use of both. But because both were extremely close to BP, King Mahendra conceived of a strategy to use them for ‘informants’.

On the other hand, BP made Giri a minister to arrange the king’s transport logistics in order to understand Mahendra’s strategy. Giri was sharp, clever, logical and eloquent. He was part of the king’s entourage during the king’s frantic cross-country visits in early 1960. It was on that visit that King Mahendra and Tulsi Giri forged a deep relationship. Suspicion became rampant within the Congress that Giri was inciting the king to make strident speeches and helping him with his coup plans.

Subsequently, there was pressure to remove Giri from the cabinet, and on 26 August 1960, he was forced to resign. But the palace dilly-dallied on accepting his resignation. King Mahendra maintained that he, and not the prime minister, had the right to remove a minister from his post. Finally, the palace issued a statement on 14 September 1960 that Giri’s resignation had been accepted.

Even BP had suspected that Giri was playing a double role. Giri also used to rouse BP to act and speak against the king. Writes BP in his autobiography: “Tulsi Giri always used to tell me things against the king. He told me to be strong and respond to the king’s statements in this or that way. He used to say things like: In the speeches in Biratnagar and Saptari, you the prime minister became spineless and pathetic, and surrendered.”

A close look at the political landscape of that era reveals Giri had a role in creating a rift between the king and the prime minister. On the day of the royal coup in December 1960, both BP Koirala and Tulsi Giri were arrested. But while BP served an eight-year-long sentence in Sundarijal jail, Giri was released after five days.

Next week’s ‘Vault of History’ column will discuss the backgrounds and further political journeys of Tulsi Giri and Bishwa Bandhu Thapa

In those days, there was rampant talk about King Birendra being a ruler only in name, and that the actual reins of power were in the hands of Queen Aishwarya, Princes Gyanendra and Dhirendra, and some royal courtiers. Ordinary people frequently commented on how the palace secretaries and the king’s ACDs were running the government and amassing colossal wealth in the process. They talked about the indecisive leadership of King Birendra. In such a socio-political climate, Yogi Naraharinath’s interview (see last issue of VoH) added fuel to fire. Employing the umbrella analogy rather at length, he pontificated on what the country needed to do.

He defined a state as ‘an umbrella that one holds’. “If a ruler lets others hold it, sometimes they themselves take cover under it. Amshuverma did that. So did Jung Bahadur. And the one who owned the umbrella was exposed naked. That’s how it is in statecraft. One who assumes active leadership should be decisive. Those who are unable to make decisions simply cannot take active leadership,” said Naraharinath.

Not just that. He even warned that a monarch continuing such a trend could become insignificant or even fade into oblivion. “As many as 750 kings of India met their downfall as they were distant from their citizenry.”

Naraharinath also chastised the Panchas (proponents of the Panchayat rule) harshly. “In villages across the country, crooks and swindlers have become honorable figures but upright citizens are punished. Those who are honest are disciplined while the corrupt are promoted. The fault rests squarely on politicians. They appear weak. King Mahendra dared to rule the country well, but those who came to power after his demise lacked long-term vision.”

On governance, Naraharinath said: “Palace secretaries are doing work that ministers are supposed to do. There is interference from on high in every small decision. Where will the country go when rulers show such wishy-washy behavior such as trying to devolve rights but not being able to do so, or talking about democracy but interfering in every small matter? Such a system can be called neither democratic nor traditional.”

Naraharinath’s much-discussed interview did not go down well with the Panchas or the royalists; they thought his activities defamed the monarchy. Advocates of a multiparty system, on the other hand, interpreted the interview differently; they concluded Naraharinath had incited the king to become even more powerful and repressive. The Nepali Congress maintained that he was an abettor ofpolitical regression.

While the interviewer (Harihar Birahi) and publisher (Shiva Kumar Khadka) had already been arrested, Naraharinath had not been. He held a press meet where he claimed that he firmly stood by his words and that the interview, in fact, had been toned down. “If somebody has to be punished, it is the interviewee. Injustice should not be meted out to a journalist,” the yogi added.

The Panchayat rulers faced a dilemma as to how to deal with Naraharinath. Because jailing a yogi could create difficulties, the royal regime adopted a curious policy. It apprehended him on the sly and drove him on a government vehicle to the other side of the border through the Bhairahawa customs point. He was forced into exile to India.

After that, Naraharinath appeared in Kathmandu in the summer of 1989, when the country was suffering an Indian blockade. He gave a rather fiery interview to Deshantar, a Nepali weekly, which published it with a catchy title on 16 April 1989. “No one trusts those who are ruled by others. Those who salute are slaves; they cannot protect the country. No nation can become independent through foreign aid. We should not even accept air for free. I am a jogi, a global creature; I am nobody’s servant. I am saying all this only because I was born in Nepal. Only an ignoramus says India did this and that [for Nepal]. Nepalis are generous givers; they are ignorant but also altruistic. We don’t cause trouble for others. But nor do we let go of what is rightfully ours from the times of our ancestors,” Naraharinath said.

He kept travelling to and fro between Nepal and India, and busied himself with religious rituals and lectures. With the advent of multiparty democracy, he stopped being the news. Yogi Naraharinath breathed his last aged 88 on 25 February 2003 in Mrigasthali, Kathmandu.

Next week’s ‘Vault of History’ column will discuss the role of Dr Tulsi Giri (the ex-prime minister) and Biswo Bandhu Thapa (the ex-chief of Rastriya Panchayat) in the establishment of the Panchayat regime

Vault of history: The umbrella umbrage

Yogi Naraharinath played an important role in ushering in the partyless Panchayat regime. Not only was he repeatedly embroiled in controversy during the Panchayat reign, but was also imprisoned.

He stood against the new education plan that the government had introduced in 1971. Naraharinath argued that the plan did not accord due respect to the nation’s languages and cultures, and that it would drive the country toward ruin.

His movement against the plan had the potential to incite people. King Mahendra was fully aware of Naraharinath’s ability to impress ordinary citizens, and the monarch invited the yogi to the palace for a meeting. The two had an argument and Mahendra even threatened Naraharinath. According to Shambhu Prasad Gyawali, then home and panchayat minister, King Mahendra said to Yogi Naraharinath, “You are a jogi (mendicant). If you’re dissatisfied with something, you can suddenly leave a place and go wherever you want. Being a monarch, I don’t have that luxury.”

Naraharinath was not cowed. The palace feared he could recreate an incident similar to the one in Gorkha a decade earlier. Mahendra passed away the same year the new education system was implemented. His heir to the throne—King Birendra—had Naraharinath arrested. The yogi went into exile in India after serving a six-month prison sentence.

Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi knew of Yogi Naraharinath’s skills and talents, and she built an ashram for him. Naraharinath frequently organized long religious rituals, where he invited prime ministers, ministers and senior officials. He used to say “Bhrastachaar, commission-trantra, swaha!” (‘To hell with corruption and the system of commission’).

Yogi Naraharinath used to attract a fair bit of attention while he was in Nepal. The Nepali Congress considered him an abettor of the royal coup against democracy, and could not stand him. Its cadres chased him out of Chitwan in the mid-1980s when he delivered a speech in the district against the party. He was in the process of opening a school in Chitwan when he gave that speech. At the same time, he was trying to create an anti-Congress climate and establish the illiberal leader, Dr. Tulsi Giri. 

In the latter half of the Panchayat reign, Naraharinath came out strongly against King Birendra’s governance. He made a public announcement, arguing that Birendra was unable to govern and that the real rulers behind the scenes were somebody else. After he gave a long interview to journalist Harihar Birahi, the yogi was once again sent into exile in India. (Birahi and publisher Shiva Kumar Khadka were arrested, tried for crimes against the royal regime, and jailed.)

This incident is known as Chhataa kaanda (the umbrella episode). “If somebody wants to stand under an umbrella, they should have the ability to carry it themselves,” Naraharinath said. “If they do not even have that much power, it would be futile to have an umbrella.”

“One who does not have the strength to carry an umbrella would be better off accepting that he does not need it and voluntarily handing it over to others. Wanting an umbrella but not being able to hold it won’t work.” These statements were part of an interview published in Janajyoti, a Nepali weekly, on 7 August 1987. They were interpreted as a jibe at King Birendra’s tendency to hold on to power but without the ability to wield it.

Next week’s ‘Vault of History’ column will discuss how Yogi Naraharinath was exiled into India following the Chhataa kaanda and his return to Nepal

A new party appeared on the scene after the date of the 1959 parliamentary election had already been announced. The party, ‘Karmabir Mahamandal’, tried to register with the Election Commission six days before the candidate nomination deadline. But the EC refused, saying that the deadline for party registration had already passed. Karmabir Mahamandal appealed to the palace. King Mahendra issued a royal command instructing the EC to register the party. But the EC still declined and Karmabir Mahamandal could not contest the polls.

The party ran under the instructions of Yogi Naraharinath. When the Congress won the election and formed a government, he launched a movement to incite villagers as he was a staunch opponent of the parliamentary system and wanted to derail the government. “Do not pay taxes to the government. Do not hand over forests to it. We need to destroy this government. I am a close confidant of the king,” he used tell people and show them a letter from the palace as he tried to foment unrest in the name of Karmabir Mahamandal.

Moreover, Yogi Naraharinath was attracting more and more followers by claiming he was none other than Lord Gorakhnath. On 25 October 1960, his disciples mounted an attack on the headquarters of Gorkha district. Their plan was to occupy the town and capture the chief officer. 

Security personnel retaliated and in the ensuring combat, seven people lost their lives and many others were wounded. This incident obviously caused a political storm in Kathmandu; it also deepened the rift between the palace and the Nepali Congress.

There were no transport services in that era. But if Yogi Naraharinath was seen in a district one day, he would appear in another the following day. He was arrested in the north-western district of Jumla four days after the Gorkha incident.

He could speak fluently and at length on every topic archeology, history, culture, philosophy, politics, religion, etc and in multiple languages. He had the gift of gab. Many books have been published under his name. For a while, he was active in setting up religious schools and performing lengthy holy rituals in different parts of Nepal and India.

Balbir Singh Thapa was born into an ordinary family in the western hilly district of Kalikot in 1915. At the age of 10, Thapa was suddenly transformed into Yogi Naraharinath by the chief priest of the Chandannath Temple in Jumla. From a Chhetri, he converted into the Gorakhnath sect and started wearing Kundal (a pair of large earrings) and saffron garb.

The palace used to prepare profiles of people it could potentially use. Yogi Naraharinath was one of them which meant he was of great interest to the palace. King Mahendra used to keep a written evaluation of important figures. His former chief secretary Rewati Raman Khanal said to him, “A Jogi is not under anyone’s control. We can only listen to him.” (Rewati Raman Khanal’s Atmakatha, Anubhuti ra Abhibyakti).

Next week’s ‘Vault of History’ column will discuss more of Yogi Naraharinath’s political activities and their consequences

VAULT OF HISTORY: XXXVI

“Why did you enmesh me in the Jogi episode?” King Mahendra asked Prime Minister Bishweshwar Prasad Koirala two days before the royal coup of 15 December 1960. The activities of a Jogi (mendicant) had sparked an argument between the two. The mendicant was Yogi Naraharinath, who became the last topic of conversation between a prime minister leading a government with a two-third majority and a monarch plotting to dissolve the government and the parliament.

The Jogi was inciting people and creating troubles in various places. He used to show a letter issued by the royal palace and claim he was a close confidant of the king. Such actions soured the relationship between the palace and the Congress party. In fact, Yogi Naraharinath’s incitement had led to a violent incident in Gorkha in the last week of October 1960. BP claimed that the Jogi was acting under Mahendra’s instructions. The monarch was miffed when the prime minister publicly made such a claim.

Koirala has allotted three pages in his autobiography to Yogi Naraharinath. He mentions in detail the heated discussion he had with King Mahendra.

Mahendra: You made a statement accusing us without evidence.
BP: The Jogi was going around saying that the king had instructed him to revolt against the atheistic prime minister and his government. As proof, he used to show a royal seal. I haven’t spoken without evidence, your majesty.

Mahendra: What evidence?
BP: He showed people a letter bearing a royal seal written by your military secretary. He even claimed he had been paid for the job.

The Jogi was arrested in the district of Jumla on 29 October 1960 and brought to Kathmandu. He had in his possession a letter signed by Sher Bahadur Malla, King Mahendra’s aide-de-camp (ADC). On the very day, BP showed that letter to Mahendra.

When the argument between the two escalated, Mahendra said, “BP Babu, only one among us can remain. Either you run the country and I will withdraw. Or you quit and I will run the country.” Such a proposition was not acceptable to BP. He replied, “I refuse to govern without the king’s support.”

Finally, the two came to an agreement not to denounce one another. Mahendra said, “Okay then, if I make a mistake, you can come to this room, take off your shoes and hit me with them. But please be mindful of my prestige outside.”

The Congress had already guessed that King Mahendra would usurp the reins of power. Deputy Prime Minister Subarna Shumsher Rana, who was related to the royal family, had left for Calcutta two days before the December 15 royal coup. Before leaving Nepal, Rana had had secret talks with BP. 

They had concluded that the king would mount a coup, but only after the visit of the British queen, who was already scheduled to come to Nepal in February 1961. 

Their assumption—that the king would not stage a coup against a democratically elected government on the eve of the visit of the queen of Britain, the birthplace of the parliamentary system—proved wrong.

Next week’s ‘Vault of history’ column will discuss Yogi Naraharinath’s background and political stance