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 As Finance Minister Yubaraj Khatiwada out­lined the roadmap to the country’s pros­perity in the federal parliament on May 29, many Nepalis were preoccupied with the bomb blasts in the national capital just a few days earlier. Many wondered why the government and the Communist Party of Nepal (CPN) led by Netra Bikram Chand ‘Biplob’ were not talking. But talking about what? The party’s demands are either vague or too radical. When APEX asked Chand about his demands, he replied: “The long and short of it is that we want an end to the way the crony capitalist class is impoverish­ing the people and bankrupting the country by captur­ing the economic, political and cultural arena and key sectors like education, health and real estate.”

Typical communist-speak. But what exactly does ending the reign of the ‘crony capitalist class’ entail? Wholesale nationalization of health and education? His party has also been bombing and taking ‘physical action’ against multinationals, which it accuses of suck­ing the country dry. Apparently, kicking them all out is the only viable option. Another of his contentions is that top Maoist leaders like Pushpa Kamal Dahal and Baburam Bhattarai ‘betrayed’ the revolution when they agreed to lay down arms in 2006. His party will thus push for the conclusion of the ‘incomplete peo­ple’s war’.

As Home Minister Ram Bahadur Thapa informed the parliament recently, the CPN has over the past few years been busy raising a militia to wage yet another bloody revolution. The party has been openly extort­ing businesses and NGOs to add to its war-chest. It has killed innocent people and made life difficult for every­one, and in doing so it is behaving more like a criminal outfit than a political party.

Yes, the Oli government has been rather harsh in dealing with Chand’s party. But it is also disingenuous of Chand to claim there has been no initiative for talks from the government’s side. Chand himself admits that there were many ‘informal’ approaches, which appar­ently amounted to nothing. It isn’t hard to guess why. In his own words, “we are not afraid of talks, but we are not convinced that they will address the issues raised by our revolution.”

The government should always be open for talks with a political party that has legitimate political demands. But how can there be meaningful talks when Chand refuses to abandon his violent and criminal ways? If the CPN wants the government and the civil society to consider it a credible political outfit, it should fore­swear violence and declare itself ready for uncondi­tional talks.

 Except for a section of the former Maoist gue­rillas and some Madhesi outfits, the rest of the Nepali political parties were always reluctant federalists. It made sense too. Before the 2007 Madhesi uprising, few Nepalis had heard of federalism. So wedded were they to a unitary state, the federal concept sounded alien, even as its proponents were trying to explain that it was just another way to ensure proper distribution of power and resources away from Kathmandu. It was natural that the political parties, the articulators of public aspirations, were also unsure about federalism. That was then.

Today, federalism, firmly enshrined in the Nepali constitution, is a fait accompli. The country has seven provinces and 753 local level units, each with its own government, besides the federal government at the center. The constitution sees each of these 761 govern­ments as autonomous, self-governing entities, even as it envisions a high level of cooperation and coordina­tion among them. Thus when Prime Minister KP Oli says that Nepal is “one country with one [federal] gov­ernment” with seven provincial and 753 local “subordi­nate” governments, he is walking on thin ice.

It was one thing for KP Oli the leader of the erstwhile CPN-UML to publicly express his skepticism of feder­alism. (Even that stand was not entirely unproblematic because he was among the top leaders who had put pen to the draft constitution that instituted a federal Nepal back in 2015.) But to do so as the head of the federal government is not just unseemly; it is also trou­bling for the nascent federal republic. It suggests either the prime minister does not fully understand his role as the head of the federal government, or he is know­ingly abusing his powers.

In the past year and a half Oli has tried to central­ize powers and shown his unwillingness to transfer power and resources to the provinces and local levels. This is as clear in the center-heavy budget allocations as it is in the continued existence of the parallel bod­ies under the old unitary structure that have created many problems for the provincial governments. The country expects better of Oli, the chief custodian and the embodiment of the federal constitution. He should realize that the federal formula can work only with high levels of delegation and trust between the three tiers of the government. On the other hand, the sham federal­ism that Oli and co. seem to be promoting imperils all the recent political gains.

 There is plenty of room to doubt the intent behind the proposed media regulations. A recently-tabled media bill in the federal par­liament proposes harsh fines, of up to Rs 1 million, if a media outlet is deemed to have damaged someone’s reputation. Another bill criminalizes publi­cation or broadcasting of any material seen as under­mining national sovereignty, with the offender facing 10-15 years of jail and Rs 10 million in fines. Another proposal is for the government to be able to hire and fire media regulators at will.

The government has come up with many justifica­tions for the new measures. It believes Nepali media has become unruly; that there is little verification of information before publication; that yellow journal­ism is rife; and that media houses are unduly profiting from the labor of journalists who are not getting even minimum wages. Another gripe is that the media is being influenced by foreign interests. Again, these may all be valid concerns. But the track record of the two-third Oli government suggests the real goal is to stifle all criticism of his government, which has visibly failed on many fronts.

If the intent was right, why isn’t the new press over­sight mechanism being made an autonomous body that can independently assess rule violations? How can its officials function independently when they know that only by constantly keeping the higher-ups happy can they retain their job? Likewise, how will there be any kind of investigative reporting when the journalist knows he or she may be jailed for years on end for it? And isn’t a court of law rather than a handpicked body the right institution to determine a breach of a loaded concept like national sovereignty?

If the government was serious about solving genuine issues facing the Nepali media, it would have proposed new legislations only after extensive consultations with stakeholders: journalists, media houses, intellectuals, lawyers. Forcing restrictive laws on the media on the sly is no way to go about it. At a time when the strong communist government has near complete monop­oly on the executive, the legislative, and some would say even the judiciary, its efforts at taming the ‘fourth organ’ of the state is troubling to say the least. Flawed as Nepali media is, it has performed a vital job of keep­ing people informed and fostering the progressive changes the country has witnessed in recent times. It would be dangerous to go down the slippery slope of restricting the media.

 Former Prime Minister and Coordinator of Naya Shakti Nepal Baburam Bhattarai was recently canvassing the country’s length and breadth. What he saw and heard during this extended tour must have depressed him. Basically, he espied no prospect of a revival of his beleaguered party, which has just a single seat in the federal lower house. Many see Bhattarai as an opportunist who waged a bloody insurgency that took the lives of around 17,000 Nepalis. But as soon as it served his purpose, he ditched the ideology. Others think of him as cold and calculated, and someone missing the common touch.

In the former Maoist party, Bhattarai’s reputation was as an intellectual capable of coming up with the best of ideas and yet someone incapable of building an organization. His tendency to project an intellectual air does not sit well with common folks; many like his ideas but they struggle to trust him. This sad realization must have hit home on his recent cross-country trek. Hence his decision to merge his party with the Upen­dra Yadav-led Federal Socialist Forum Nepal.

Bhattarai realizes Yadav is the front and center of the new party and he will be playing second fiddle. The new socialist outfit, by fusing the energies of eth­nic hill leaders and identity-conscious Madhesi ones, hopes to start a new trend in Madhes-Pahad unity. A wonderful idea, but also an unrealistic one. Big parties like the (former) CPN-UML and the Nepali Congress have always had strong organizations in both Pahad and Madhes. If these forces could not unite the coun­try, there is little hope that the new socialist party with some extremely polarizing politicians in its ranks will fare any better. But Yadav has nothing to lose.

He already has a rock-solid base in Madhes; the new party’s ability to make inroads into the hills would be a bonus. In contrast, Naya Shakti’s hold on both Madhes and Pahad is tenuous. It was a spent force. Bhattarai has never been short of ambition and yet he finds him­self in a political wilderness. The new socialist outfit is an unlikely vehicle with which to revive his political career. In a sign of things to come, his erstwhile Naya Shakti colleagues are furious at the new merger that happened without their knowledge, and one which has made them ‘junior members’ in the new party. The road ahead is long and arduous for BRB.