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How do you assess a country’s political situation between elections? It’s probably through the media, the social media included. Nepal at this time is in the perfect in-between-the-elections phase to study politics outside the elections.

The last set of elections was held almost three years ago. The context was interesting.

Nepal entered the elections after more than a decade of transition politics marred by non-democratic politicking, power struggles, and brinkmanship.

The conflict and the transition era did two fundamental damages to Nepali politics. It normalized a state of non-performance for the polity in the name of the delicate situation. It even made acceptable what should have been considered a mockery of common sense—the voting for the post of prime minister was conducted inconclusively 17 times.

Such a ridiculous disregard for the imminent social and political problems was normalized, and almost established as the only thing that politics was supposed to be engaged in.

One other thing this transition politics did that is detrimental to the basic concept of constitutionalism and democracy, was the hijacking of authority by the top leaders in the name of High Level Political Mechanism. This became a means of consolidating power at the top, undemocratically, in all the parties. The fundamental feudal character of Nepali political parties became indomitable.

This kind of an ad-hoc arrangement stopped all avenues of growth for second-rung leaders in all major parties. As a result, the leaders of the next generation like Gagan Thapa and Yogesh Bhattarai, who should by now have been among the ones leading their parties, are still being treated like kids.

With a tedious decade-long limbo named transition politics over, Nepal had entered the elections with this permanent damage to democracy.

But Nepal’s public has been both wise and patient in treating the politicians. The armed struggle had scared the established urban elites enough without directly impacting their lives. In Kathmandu, it was considered like something happening not just in a remote area, but also in a remote era. The Kathmandu urban elite knows and believes that most of Nepal still lives two centuries behind, and it’s the main secret of their privileges. They get disproportionate access to resources meant for the whole country because of this.

The blockade happened in their living rooms, however. And it had a more lasting impact than the decade-long Maoist armed struggle or the political anarchy of more than a decade that followed.

So, when Nepal went into the elections, Modi was the villain, and Oli was the savior. But political stability was the driving force that consolidated people’s choice.

An overwhelming majority of almost two-thirds is wasted. There is almost no scope of a miraculous face saving now, with more than half the tenure of this government gone by in cruel skullduggery and careless comical theatrics.

The covid crisis has exposed to the general public that accepting non-democratic, incompetent manipulators as the country’s leaders costs us jobs, wealth, and lives too.

But what do representative voices in the social media indicate? People have no hope from our politicians. And the politicians do not shy from putting the blame back on the people.

Will there be a fundamental shift in the nature of our mainstream political parties in three years before the next elections? There is nothing to suggest such a miracle is coming.

People have been wise, in general, in the elections. They know they can’t trust politicians to be truly honest and non-corrupt, but in the larger scheme of things, they have been running the affairs of the state even amid this chaos.

But it’s probably time to read between the lines and question the fundamentals of the system that our politics has evolved into. The nexus of the feudal power structure within the parties and the country’s criminal gangs has been exposed beyond doubt in front of the people.

Should they not look for an alternative now?

Everybody wants happiness. And often we pursue it. But in our wanting and pursuing, we lose it. The very fact that we want and pursue happiness makes it elusive.

There is a psychological reason behind this. Let’s see it through an example. Many people in the world are single, and are unhappy about it. They tend to think, ‘When I find the perfect partner, I’ll be happy’. Years and decades pass by looking for the perfect girl or guy. But the pursuit doesn't end, it becomes a habit. Even if we have a partner or spouse, we are not satisfied. Nobody can easily fit in our definition of 'perfect'. We cannot be happy with what we have, because we are in the constant mode of wanting somebody perfect to come and make us happy.

Another example: Suppose we are doing a certain job, and are unhappy about it. For many of us, the current job sucks. Either the boss is too demanding, or the colleagues are too nagging. Or maybe the organization is not the best place to be in. Or the job doesn't fall in the definition of our so-called passion. We start thinking, ‘I'll be happy when I find the perfect job’.

But what happens when we find that perfect partner or job? For a while, we think we are happy, but then the mind starts finding faults. After all, we have trained our minds not to be satisfied. The mind works based on how it has been conditioned. We become conditioned or habituated to what we do repeatedly. So when we have spent a lot of time being dissatisfied with our job or in wanting a perfect person, it has already become our habit. So we start wanting something else. This habit of dissatisfaction spills over, making us unhappy with every other thing coming into our experience, not only the partner or job.

We set many such conditions for happiness: ‘I will be happy when I have a certain amount of bank balance’. Or, ‘I will be happy when I complete my project’. Basically we make our happiness hostage to some other thing or person or situation, either having them or not having them. Sometimes we outsource our happiness to absurd things. ‘When the king is gone and a president is put in place, I will be happy’. ‘Free market sucks, if we have a controlled social and economic order, I will be happy’. ‘If I have a Labrador instead of this Bulldog, I will be happy’.

But wanting and pursuing happiness isn't bad, is it? Everybody wants to be happy. So, why not pursue it?

The answer to that question lies in knowing our reality. To know the reality, we need a scientific approach. If we look deep within ourselves objectively, without making any judgements, we can see that the source of happiness is within us. We can see that it is our reality, our fundamental nature. Then wanting and pursuing ends.

How can we pursue something that is already within us, that is already our own fundamental nature? Have you ever noticed a one-year-old child? Do they need a gold medal in swimming or a posh house to be happy? Not at all. If their stomach is full, they are naturally jubilant and playful. They have not gotten the happy state by wanting or pursuing. Nor have they taken any crash course on happiness. Once their survival is ensured, they are blissful just like that. We were like that when we were kids.

Let’s say we are already in Kathmandu. Not knowing, we want to reach Kathmandu and we set out for it. We may even take a flight to Kathmandu. We can reach anywhere but Kathmandu! It's like that with happiness. Happiness is IN us, we were all born with it. But as we grow up, we obscure our minds by wrong views and habits and forget about this fundamental quality. So we take a flight away from ourselves. No wonder we end up wanting and pursuing happiness, never finding it.

Last night a transmitter in my area blew. And with a huge bang, the world went dark. It was a timely reminder of what is in everyone’s minds. ‘What if?’ What if during lockdown we are plunged into global and national 1990s? No working from home online. No online tutoring.  No Netflix/YouTube/social media. No Zoom meetings. No online exercise classes. No Skype calls to loved ones. One can wonder how we survived those pre-internet days. But of course, we don’t miss what we never had. But we do have it now and we would so very much miss it.

In this hell called 2020, it would be so much harder to persuade children and young people to stay home without the internet. Naturally, there are some areas that are still without internet in Nepal, but here I am talking urban areas being policed well during the lockdown. And not just during lockdown—any time during a pandemic when many of us do not want to go out or send our children out as before—the internet will save us.

And then there is the darkness! I first came to Nepal as a tourist in 1990. Even in those days you were handed a candle at your hotel in Thamel. Having come from a country with 24/7 hydropower, candles were only used for romantic or celebratory occasions. So it was a bit of fun. Moving forward I lived in a rural area with no electricity. Kerosene lamps were the way to go. To this day I can recognize the taste of kerosene in food (yes, it happens). At some point, we installed solar panels in the kitchen and public areas. Solar panels some do-good—but not really thinking it through—NGO brought to the area to sell to locals. At Rs 8,000 a panel. How much kerosene could you buy in those days for Rs 8,000? So those panels were rejected by the locals and snatched up by hoteliers.

Moving forward again—hello Kathmandu 2000 and hello again candles! I have been in debate with someone as to when ‘load-shedding’ actually started in Nepal. Although electricity cuts where there for decades, I am told load-shedding started around 2006.  (Sorry, I can’t fact-check as my electricity has gone off again and therefore my access to Google!)  If you are new to Nepal (ie post 2016) you might well ask why ‘load-shedding’?  Why not ‘electricity cuts’? ‘Power shortages’? Why is it called load-shedding? Actually it is literally shedding the load. The load being the burden of not having electricity. Yea, bit unclear in the English language sense. Kay garni.

At that time load-shedding timetables were introduced. Which were actually great! As long as you knew which area you were in, you could plan your work and going out around that schedule. Oddly, it’s the only thing in Nepal I have known to start and stop on time. They had that down to the minute! So we got used to living to a timetable and (still) buying candles.  Remember those days of candlewax everywhere in your house? On the carpet, on the furniture, on your clothes? And remember that winter where there was only, if my memory serves me right, four hours of electricity a day? We all just gave up. Kinda like lockdown fatigue, we all sat in the sun twiddling our thumbs. Even for those fortunate few who had inverters, four hours was not enough time to recharge. 

About two or three years after that I purchased a solar panel. Being used to the semi-darkness of candles, when the installation guy came I said it wasn’t necessary to install all the six (included in the price) lights. Four would do. ‘Oh no!’ said he and proceeded to put them in places he had learned from experience are the right locations and heights. I am grateful he did, because even in these days of electricity I used the solar lights daily. 

Around 2015/16 we were again plunged into the cold and dark after the earthquake and blockade. With little gas available we bought electrical cooking appliances and thus started a new phase in Nepal urban life. At the same time came Kool Man who brought light to almost every corner of the country. We plugged ourselves into more internet /box tv/ fancy gadgets and kitchen appliances. It would be extremely hard to give those up now. 

When the entire country was reeling under the corona crisis, the residents of Khokana, an antique Newari village with rich traditions, also had to fend off the police. Infringement of their right to cultivate land and violent attack on the local community go against the ILO 169 provision on land, which recognizes people’s right of ownership and possession of lands they traditionally occupy. Further, the ILO convention calls on the State to safeguard the right of the people to the use of lands on which they rely for subsistence and traditional activities.

Accusing the locals of trying to illegally plant paddy along the 300 ropanis of the land acquired for the Kathmandu-Terai expressway, the police opted for heavy intervention, against which the otherwise calm locals retaliated. With over five years of dillydallying in compensating for the acquired land, thereby breaching several agreements, the State’s intent to dishonor the rights of the local community had already been exposed. Even as the land worth billion of rupees had been accounted at a very low price, the planned attack on the settlement raised some troubling questions about our development process.

Further, the locals asking the police force to arrange for those who understand their language as a condition for talks  signals the growing mistrust of the centralized system that considers development as its prerogative. The lukewarm State response to the socio-cultural and emotional needs of Khokana locals has not only sparked aggression and hatred among the community, but also posed grave questions about the vision of our development: What are the values of our development? Which principal actors are shaping the development agenda? What is the State’s perception of local communities’ role in this development?

Overemphasis on economic pursuits has been the hallmark of our development. A close look at the history of planned development in Nepal shows a focus on infrastructure and technology. So development and prosperity are equated with the successful completion of national pride projects in hydroelectricity, irrigation, and agriculture. There is no harm in advancing economic dimensions of development. What is of concern though is the dismantling of socio-cultural ethos and values. Whether in the case of the decision to push ahead with the Nijgadh Airport defying the Supreme Court order or the recent action against Khokana dwellers, economic development at any cost remains the priority.

Development endeavors in Nepal have traditionally treated local communities as adversaries. The State has historically been apathetic to the protection and promotion of age-old traditions and values that characterize these communities. More worrisome, the indigenous knowledge systems of communities are considered impediments to modern development.

A blanket approach to development without accommodating community voices and concerns appeared in the Khokana case too. In fact, the State still wants to settle outstanding conflicts with communities solely from an economic point of view. With a false belief that community resentment is only about financial compensation to acquired land, the State is mulling a financial deal without bothering about local demand for restoration of the unique heritage and culture of the place. This leaves the root cause of the conflict unaddressed.

The crucial questions of development—‘For whom?’, and ‘By which process?’—have not gotten much attention in our development discourse. The discourse has instead appeared incompatible to the need of our communities and cultures. Various obtrusive forces have penetrated our system, thwarting local initiatives. The high-handedness of international and regional development actors in shaping Nepal’s development policies is a testimony to this. Development initiatives in Nepal have thus catered to a few privileged groups—donors, project managers, contractors, bureaucrats, and policymakers.

It is important to think beyond the confines of the centralized system and authorities to include the perspectives of local communities in designing development policies and programs. Listening to grassroots voices and finding mutually beneficial ways will be vital to the sustainability of our development endeavors.

The author is an independent writer and researcher