Submit your Article

It’s incredible how the political parties that promulgated the new constitution, hailing it as among the ‘best in the world’, have been so disinterested in implementing it. These include the parties now running the federal government, as well as the main opposition. The seventh constitution of democratic Nepal was also the most revolutionary: for the first time people had written their own charter. It was also the constitution that cemented Nepal’s new federal status, marking a decisive break in the country’s 250-year-old history as a unitary state.

The old structure had proven incapable of delegating power and responsibilities down to the grassroots. Without this kind of devolution, it was hard to see the country develop and its people politically and economically empowered. The new constitution provided for three tiers of government: federal, provincial and local. The idea was that the provincial and local governments would act with a high degree of autonomy, and with direct participation of the people at the grassroots. For this they would get enough support from Kathmandu, the federal capital.

Yet the old unitary mindset has been hard to change. The federal officials have been most reluctant to devolve powers. All the important decisions continue to be made in Kathmandu and imposed on the seven provinces and the 753 local units. Shamefully, over 70 percent of the federal budget goes to the federal government, with the rest divided among the local and provincial governments. As the lower level governments are without even basic infrastructure and manpower, this allocation is inadequate—and unjust.

This is an example of the deep chasm between the high aims of the new constitution and their realization. Old unitary demarcations remain, as do the unitary officialdom that often competes for influence with the new provincial and local officials. Despite an overwhelming mandate, the federal government has been unable to make any headway in improving the economy or ensuring that people’s lives and properties are protected. Nor do the historically disadvantaged minorities feel the new charter, or its custodians, work in their interests. The government would do well to pay heed to their legitimate grievances so as to broaden the constitution’s ownership.

As public dissatisfaction mounts, federalism is being blamed for everything wrong in the country of late. But it’s more a case of our political leadership and top bureaucrats refusing to shed their old unitary lens and to transcend self-interest. On this fourth anniversary of the new constitution, its promulgators need to do some soul-searching. Otherwise, the new edifice they are building on it could come crashing down.

Call it the China effect. An old criticism of India-funded projects in Nepal has been their long delays. But as China has stepped up its engagement in Nepal, India seems to have woken up to the urgent need to safeguard its old sway here. The completion of the Motihari-Amlekhgunj cross-border oil pipeline in a record 17 months hints at as much. It is no coincidence India has also expedited works on all its rail projects in Nepal, including the link between Kathmandu and Birgunj.

Some may see this as evidence of an unhealthy geopolitical competition between the two rising Asian giants. But can’t there also be a healthy rivalry between India and China as they look to expand their footprints in Nepal? If India starts completing its projects in Nepal on time, for whatever reason, Nepal only benefits. When the pipeline comes into full operation, it will also meet a crucial goal of the new National Security Policy: forestalling another blockade. The excuse of protests at the border to stop fuel supply to Nepal will no longer work.  

Likewise, Nepal’s relations with any other power should be determined by its national interests and long-term vision. Yet that is not the case. Nepal has signed up to the BRI, and yet it seems clueless about how to benefit from it. It now also finds itself a part of the Indo-Pacific Strategy, again without a clear understanding of what it entails.  

There is always a subtext in foreign relations. It is unrealistic, even dangerous, to expect outsiders to do things for us pro bono. Nor is that the right way to develop our capacity in executing big projects. Whenever outside help is sought, in cash or kind, Nepal should look to supplement it with its own resources. Yet what we see is a woeful lack of cooperation and coordination among different government entities, which also hampers our foreign relations. Ministries are often working at cross-purposes. The foreign ministry brokers an important bilateral agreement on a big hydro project, only to be later thwarted by the environment ministry. Or the defense ministry clandestinely works on an arms deal, without the knowledge of the foreign ministry.

Kudos to India on the pipeline. But the China effect will only go so far. For long-term benefit, Nepali political leadership needs to spell out what Nepal wants from its bilateral and multilateral partners and then streamline its bureaucracy to achieve those common goals.   

The unfolding ATM hacking saga is one more reminder of the pathetic state of the safety of our digital architecture. Five Chinese nationals, abetted by three Nepalis, could withdraw nearly Rs 35 million from various ATMs in Kathmandu after they hacked into these banks’ common card switching mechanism, the Nepal Electronic Payment System (NEPS). In fact, over the past few years, ATM hackings have been taking place with troubling frequency. Nepal Rastra Bank, the central bank, which is supposed to monitor the commercial banks for the strength of their digital safety, has been unable do so with its ‘inadequate resources’.

This is dangerous. Potentially trillions of rupees of people’s savings are at risk. There are apparently many loopholes in our digital payment platform that skillful hackers can exploit. Nepal’s commercial banks have been brazen in their negligence. For instance, even though the central bank has made chip-based debit cards mandatory, many banks continue to dole out cards without these safety features. But then the central bank itself has been lax in monitoring these commercial institutions.

This shows how lightly the Nepali state and its public and private enterprises take digital safety. How irresponsible have successive governments been in not strengthening the central bank’s digital safety branch! Surely, even a few billions rupees is not too high a cost to prevent a potential collapse of Nepal’s economy at the hands of crafty hackers. Yet full-on complacency has been the norm till date. The SCT and NEPS, the brokers of these ATM-based electronic bank transactions, have been breathtakingly negligent, too, with reported cases of their technicians being allowed to operate from their insecure home-based cyber networks.

Hackers in and out of the country are getting more sophisticated, and they know Nepal is among the countries with the least secure electronic infrastructures. In the latest edition of the (global) National Cyber Security Index, Nepal ranks a lowly 92^nd out of the 100 countries surveyed. If our leaky digital systems are not overhauled immediately, a far more ruinous heist could be around the corner. 

There is an evolving global debate on the relation between technology and democracy: Have modern technology and its products strengthened democracy or have they weakened it? The jury is still out. Yet the deleterious consequences of the wrong use of technology on democracy can no longer be ignored. At its worst, technology can bitterly divide society and boost undemocratic actors. A good example of the divisive tendency of modern technology is social media. Consider the ongoing legal case of media personality Rabi Lamichhane. His supporters were quick to leap to his defense on Facebook. His critics were as ardent in trying to establish his association with a suicide. The two sides quarreled endlessly. Yet they had one troubling thing in common: neither side trusted state institutions to settle the case fairly.

In the same week, Prime Minister KP Oli conducted a cabinet meeting via a videoconference from Singapore. Nothing wrong with an innovative use of technology in governance. But the videoconference, it turns out, was held over an insecure internet line. A skilled hacker could have listened in to the confidential stuff that were discussed, compromising national interest.

It has now been established that Russian hackers had some (if not a decisive) role in the victory of Donald Trump in the 2016 US presidential election. This shows that even the best of online firewalls can be breached. With more and more of our own electoral records being digitized, there is a legitimate fear that they too could be tampered with. Nepali hackers have already shown their prowess in tampering with the websites of our prominent state institutions. The rise of the deep web—a market for everything from illicit drugs to contract killers—poses another problem. The traffic to the deep web has supposedly increased following the government’s porn ban last year.

There is no going back on technology. But there must also be more education on its right use, perhaps starting with greater awareness on the use of social media. It is about time Nepali schools started relevant courses on online misinformation and hate speech. The state must also invest more in protecting sensitive digital information, be the records of bank clients or taxpayers.

Internet and technology have played a crucial role in democratizing access to information and modern-day comforts. But used the wrong way, they can as easily destroy democratic norms and values.