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Honoring Dr Govinda KC’s demands for reforms in health education, most healthcare professionals agree, would vastly improve public health. This has been true since Dr KC sat on his first fast-unto-death in early 2012. He has since tirelessly campaigned for affordable medical education, proper supervision of medical colleges, and decentralization of these colleges away from major urban hubs. The country in the grip of a pernicious pandemic, the importance of his demands has never been higher. Nepal’s current healthcare system has fallen woefully short in managing the Covid-19 emergency. 

Decentralization of medical colleges would have ensured that many more people were tested on time to forestall a ticking corona time-bomb. A handful of labs in Kathmandu would not have had to bear all Covid-19 testing burden. Nor would those infected flock to Kathmandu’s overcrowded hospitals for the management of their symptoms. So Dr KC’s demands cannot be taken lightly, nor can his moral standing be easily belittled. Yet the recent police manhandling of this saintly doctor, who was on his 19^th fast-unto-death, suggests those in the government see him as their bitter enemy and reckon brute force is the only way to deal with him. Meanwhile, there is no sign of any of his major demands being fulfilled.

Government representatives hate Dr KC as he seems determined to break their nexus with the medical mafia, the cash cow of many top NCP leaders. Nearly eight years of Dr KC’s tireless crusade has elicited many promises on medical education reform, but these promises have seldom been kept. The nexus appears determined to tire out the sexagenarian orthopedic surgeon; or, more sinisterly, to see him die during one of his fasts. The irony of the most powerful government in Nepal’s democratic history working in the medical mafia’s interest—while depriving people of their constitution right to healthcare—is not lost on anyone.  

PM KP Oli and his government show breathtaking neglect of public health. They seem determined to have their way, even though honoring Dr KC’s demands would be highly popular. It would also be an indisputable proof of the NCP’s commitment to its electoral slogan of ‘Happy Nepali, Prosperous Nepal’. But this communist government, it’s getting increasingly clear, is beholden to crony capitalists. So long as money keeps flowing, winning the next round of elections should be easy and that, alas, seems to be its sole concern.  

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.