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Implementation of the new constitution, promulgated on 20 Sept 2015, has been patchy. The federal government that was to spearhead its implementation has, at best, been non-committal. This is particularly true about the main pillar of the new charter: federalism. The constitution put in place a three-tier government structure, devolving many rights to the provincial and local levels. Yet the federal government has been reluctant to abide by the constitution. It wants to have the decisive say in health and education, and on appointment of provincial and local staff. The District Development Offices, the holdovers of the old unitary setup that are now directly under the federal government, still have the final say on law and order. In this light, the constitution-implementation exercise of the past five years is not encouraging. But that is only half the picture.

A unitary state for two and a half centuries, embracing the federal setup, almost overnight, could not have been easy for Nepal. Most bureaucrats and civil servants—much less the common public—are just starting to acquaint themselves with the nitty-gritty of federalism. Confusion abounds, as most are still used to thinking of Nepal as a unitary state. So greater embrace of federalism is partly a matter of time. Even so, it is sometimes hard to accept our political leaders’ reluctance to implement the new setup, for they were the ones who introduced the concept to the public, often presenting federalism as a cure-all. Either they were poorly informed or they mislead the public. They were at fault, even if the former is the case.

Some are already pronouncing the death of the constitution that they say is cumbersome, and unsuited to the country. That is another overstatement. Just as there have been reports of local-level corruption from around the country, adding to public cynicism of the federal project, we also get to hear of wonderful local-level initiatives like the provision of monetary rewards for families with a girl child or outlawing of gambling. Perhaps we expect more of the ‘revolutionary’ system we heralded. But five years into the promulgation of the historic constitution, there are enough encouraging signs. Rather than picture the budding plant dies, the country would benefit more if all of us started thinking about helping it reach its maturity.

As the federal government gives final shape to the country’s new foreign policy, it is worth mulling over the link between foreign policy and Covid-19 pandemic. How has the pandemic changed international relations and geopolitics? How is it affecting Nepal’s relations with the outside world, and for how long? And how does Nepal get support from other countries to recover from the pandemic-induced economic devastation?

A few trends are clear. Instead of bringing the world together, as would be expected amid the worst global crisis in a generation, the pandemic seems to be dividing it. American President Donald Trump has politicized the ‘China virus’ to pave his path back to power. Instead of cooperating to develop vaccines, all big countries are competing to be the first to roll one out, sowing doubts about the effectiveness of the vaccines on the pipeline. The Indian government is trying to cover up its failure on corona-control by ramping up anti-China rhetoric, even as the Chinese seem minded to press their territorial claims as other countries have their hands full with the pandemic. 

These animosities among big countries won’t die down soon. Nepal will thus have a tricky time navigating this confusing new world. It may soon face a life-and-death question: if there are options between, say, Chinese, Russian, Indian, and American vaccines, whose vaccine will it choose? Then there are long-term questions: From where and in what form will Nepal get the money to rebuild the corona-ravaged economy? As China’s tensions with the US and India escalate, can Nepal even set its own terms on its external economic engagement without compromising national interests?

Perhaps old concepts like non-alignment and Panchsheel also need to be revisited in the post-Covid world that could throw up new configurations in international relations. Then there is the old Nepali dream of acting as a vibrant economic bridge between India and China. If the task wasn’t already hard, it will get harder. The ties with the Gulf countries may also need to be reconfigured as unprecedented scales of layoffs of Nepali workers loom large. Most of the remaining term of the current federal government will be spent firefighting the blazes set off by the novel coronavirus—provided there won’t be any more of the ‘black swan’ events like the Covid-19 pandemic. 

On the International Day of the Disappeared on Aug 30, the conflict victims in Nepal had little to celebrate. Exemplifying Nepali state’s indifference to transitional justice, neither the federal government nor any major political party observed the day. There was not even a statement. The old wounds will self-heal, the hope seems to be, with the passage of time. As those directly affected by the conflict make way for new generations, the old family resentments won’t feel so raw. Yet no one really knows how when this process of forgetting will be completed, if at all. And impunity will rise when perpetrators of grave rights violations escape punishment. 

Around 1,350 people are still ‘missing’ from conflict period. Their families have waited for justice for nearly a decade and a half since the Maoist guns fell silent with the signing of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement in 2006. The two transitional justice bodies—the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, and the Commission on Enforced Disappearances—were to be formed within six months of the CPA’s signing; it took them nine years to materialize. Again, save for the human rights community and conflict victims, no important state actor seemed serious about seeing the transitional justice process through. Leaders of the mother Maoist party and Nepali Congress were reluctant as they feared persecution for their direct or indirect roles in war-time rights violations. Nepal Army, likewise, was dead- against punishing its officials for torture or enforced disappearance. 

This seriousness is still missing. Besides contributing to impunity and corroding public trust in the state, the other risk of this delay is internationalization of the process as conflict victims are forced to seek redress abroad. That will tarnish the country’s image and make senior political and army officials liable to detention and trial for war crimes when they venture abroad. This sordid drama has dragged on for too long. Realizing this, members of the international community say they now support a ‘home-grown’ transitional justice process, as much as they keep emphasizing the need for timely justice for conflict victims. No one is looking for perfect solutions here. Yet the importance of giving conflict victims a sense of closure cannot be emphasized enough. It will also be a test of the health of the newfangled Nepali democracy.

Over 400,000 Nepali migrant workers have lost their jobs in the Gulf countries and Malaysia, according to the Foreign Employment Board Nepal. In Saudi Arabia alone, of the 350,000 Nepalis there, around 120,000 have been rendered jobless. Of all those who have lost their jobs in the Gulf countries and Malaysia, only 43,000 have made it back to Nepal. Hundreds of thousands more want to return, but they can’t, even though many of them have the means to do so. Nepal has put severe restrictions on international flights. Most flights are to resume on Sept 1. But the government says it is in no position to bring back its nationals from countries like Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and Qatar, whose Covid-19 tests are unreliable. 

The stranded Nepalis, who have been fired and asked to go home by their companies, are running out of options. Jhapa’s Raju Murma was released from work by his Saudi employers six months ago. Murma says he is running short of both cash and patience. He had brought a ticket home with the Rs 50,000 his family in Nepal had sent him. He even had a PCR test done. But then his flight got cancelled. Likewise, Morang’s Mahendra Hemron has been relying on the cash sent by his family in Nepal; his former employers declined even food allowance. The Supreme Court of Nepal had in July ordered the government to repatriate Nepali citizens and pay for their return via the Rs 6 billion-strong foreign employment welfare fund. Guidelines were then issued on how Nepali migrants abroad could apply for free return. Yet the guidelines entailed undergoing a time-consuming process—and now flights from many destinations favored by Nepalis have been barred. 

If their suspected Covid-19 infection is a problem, surely, they can be made to follow isolation procedures and get tested back in their home country. There will be many logistical hurdles in this process, no doubt. But those cannot be an excuse to abandon your citizens in times of crisis. The longer the government delays the in-bound flights, the greater will be chances of a chaotic repatriation. The Nepali state has failed to keep citizens inside its borders safe. It could do a better job of managing those struggling for their very lives on the outside.