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No matter what others will have you believe, all of Nepal’s problems result from strategic miscalculation. It is to be blamed for our messy pol­itics and the rise of angry groups every 10 years or so that want to overthrow the system, and it is to be blamed for our poverty.

Strategic miscalculation results from not asking the right ques­tions essential to the country’s survival and well-being, and not making decisions that help us achieve political stability and eco­nomic growth and have the world take us seriously. The first ques­tion to ask is: Who/what is our biggest security threat?

National security isn’t just about securing our borders and ensur­ing territorial integrity. Political instability instigated by non-state actors is also a security threat and so is growing foreign influence and dependence. For every coun­try in the world, its neighbors are its biggest security threats.

Our neighbors have their own interests and agendas and they care more about those than they do about us. This doesn’t neces­sarily mean they will invade but, if they feel attacking us ensures their safety and security, or they think political instability and vio­lence work to their advantage, they will definitely do it.

The second question we need to be asking is: Who can then guarantee our survival by ensuring our neighbors do not implement their sinister designs, if and when they have any? Or who can garner enough inter­national support and act for our cause if we fall victim to one of our neighbor’s aggression?

Sadly, this question, which must have been at the heart of our foreign policy and directed our interactions with the world, is seldom considered by our policy­makers as they fear angering our neighbors. Naturally, the neigh­bors don’t want us to spread our wings. So far, they have succeeded in their plan. Nepal’s world is now sadly limited to our neighbors and we have hardly any real friend outside. The more real friends we make, the more difficult it will be for our neighbors to control or bully us into submission.

The third question we need to be asking is: Who can help us achieve economic growth and prosperity by investing here or by allowing us unrestricted mar­ket access, and what would be expected of us in return? Nepal lies between two Asian giants; it is a gateway to South Asia for China and to East Asia for India; we are a perfect place for investment—these arguments aren’t going to bring in enough investment for our sustained growth and prosperity. Before we ask investors to come, we need to find markets for our products. And market access is all about pol­itics—your use for the country that grants you market access.

That utility almost always has to do with security. The bottom line, if you want investment you need to have access to markets and that comes when you align with a power and are willing to go with its foreign policy. This means, you are willing to fight alongside if it goes to a war, and the power you align with wants you to be strong militari­ly so it will allow your products access to its and its allies’ markets. This power wants you to spend a significant part of the profits thus earned in strengthening your defense, which it thinks will be to its advantage when things turn messy with others.

Who wouldn’t want a friend with well-equipped military in times of war? If you are lucky and if you don’t have to fight your trading partner’s war, then too, you end up being strong both economically and militarily, deterring your neighbors from creating problems.

All developed countries (or the currently developing coun­tries) have followed this path. It doesn’t mean you stop inter­acting with your neighbors, but rather that you also develop a healthy skepticism of your neigh­bors intentions and are serious about your security. Once you start taking yourself seriously, others will take you seriously as well.

If not, even 50 years down the road, we will be grappling with the same-old issues and our major income source will continue to be the money sent by our young men and women working abroad (if that option is still available). The choice is ours.

Last week I visited the Tarai as part of an assignment regard­ing the mechanization of grain harvesting. Interestingly, commu­nity women said mechanization has indeed reduced time spent in the fields. But by reducing that time, men spent longer gambling and drinking, with a resulting increase in domestic violence. It would seem with every step forward, there is a partial step back.

Same can be said about the cause for equality among all Nepali people: one step forward, one step back. Take untouchability. On paper it is eliminated but in practice it is still very real, particularly in the rural areas. Look around: how often are Dalits invited into the kitchens of the so-called “upper caste” people? How many times are casual insults flung about, even in offices and schools?

Expats often struggle to under­stand this discrimination so I was excited to know that a friend was ‘walking the talk’, literally. I had a chance to catch up with him in Koha­lpur to find out more…

Nepal Padayatra 2019 is an ini­tiative started by a small team of three people—Reeta Pariyar, Ashok Darnal and Homraj Acharya—who are walking across the country, West to East, Mahakali to Mechi, through the Tarai, with the aim of ending all forms of untouchability. “Today untouchability has become more like a silent discrimination. It has been ended on paper but not in reality. It is now like a cancer—no longer visi­ble like a fever, but deep-rooted like a cancer,” explains Homraj Acharya.

“Around 14 percent of the pop­ulation, which is Dalit, face dis­crimination, adding up to a loss of economic advantages to families and the country as a whole. So we decided to march on foot to meet communities, connect with the peo­ple, record their feelings and sto­ries, and document the process. Acharya informs that the marchers were also meeting municipal offi­cials as this was the time—with new municipalities being formed—to get concrete plans from them—and from schools, private businesses, and gov­ernment offices—on how they are prioritizing Dalit communities and removing roadblocks.

I asked why Acharya, a Brahman, is participating in this march, along with his two Dalit co-marchers?

I asked why Acharya, a Brahman, is participating in this march, along with his two Dalit co-marchers? “It’s not enough for so-called upper caste people to say, ‘Well, I’m not per­sonally prejudiced.’ We from the so-called upper caste need to own the reality that discrimination exists, and work to make a difference. A personal action can be as simple as accepting a cup of tea in a Dalit home. Or adapting the hiring prac­tices in your company. Perhaps it will be talking with your school to figure out how to teach about the incredi­ble contributions by Dalit people to Nepali culture—blacksmiths, tailors, musicians, artisans, etc.”

Having been told they will spend around two months on the road, I wondered how the march is being funded. “Civil society is helping us to organize community talk pro­grams, and also inviting us into their homes to sleep and eat. Businesses along the way are also helping us. We want to do this entirely without NGO funding, which we feel would be missing the point of this initia­tive,” explained Acharya. After the march, what happens next? “We will end the march in Jhapa then drive back to Kathmandu where we will use our documented experiences as a dialogue platform with Province leaders and others,” replies Acharya.

I met them on Day 11: 251 km/300,012 steps into their march. How were they them­selves holding up? “We started out-wearing our boots, but three days ago we switched to slippers,” explains Reeta Pariyar. “Look at the blisters on my feet! But the people we are meeting and our aim out­weigh the personal hardship.”

I noticed from social media that many locals were joining in along the way. Can just about anyone march? “Sure. We welcome individ­uals and organizations to express their commitment and solidarity. Anyone is welcome to march, pro­vided they recognize that marching is only a small initial step. The most important actions take place in our daily lives.” For further information see the Nepal Padayatra 2019 Face­book page.

The formal signing of a Mem­orandum of Cooperation (MoC) between Nepal and Japan this week on labor migra­tion has opened doors for Nepali workers to be employed in Japan. Thus far South Korea has been an attractive destination for skilled and semi-skilled Nepali work­ers. The opening of the Japanese market will help close the gap between the population entering the workforce and the number of jobs created at home. It is also significant in that it will expose our workforce to additional skills and best practices that can be transferred back to Nepal.

Understandably, there has been some criticism of this lat­est MoC—particularly on the eve of the second Nepal Investment Summit. Many find the govern­ment’s approach contradictory. On the one hand, it wants to bring in billions of dollars in foreign investment, but on the other, it is actively encouraging its skilled population to go abroad.

Faulty reasoning

According to this line rea­soning, if the plans to attract billions of dollars in investment are to materialize, Nepal needs to produce a skilled workforce to underpin a foreign invest­ment-fueled growth.

While this looks like a valid argument on the surface, it misses several points. One, an increase in investment flows does not hap­pen in one go; most likely it will happen gradually over several years. Two, investments such as in hydropower and infrastruc­ture, which will absorb a large portion of the money flow, do not necessarily create many jobs and often require international-lev­el technical know-how. Three, the argument that exporting workforce eats into a country’s ability to develop is not entirely true. In fact, returning migrants bring in lots of expertise just by being exposed to a differ­ent work environment.

Exposure to Japan’s sophisti­cated and efficient work environ­ment can only be a positive thing. Besides being a win-win solution for Japan’s problem of a shrinking workforce and for the migrant workers’ families, Nepal will also benefit. If there are opportunities back home, many will choose to return. After all, there is no place like home.

Is Nepal capable though?

But doubts remain about the Nepal government’s ability to timely meet its end of the obliga­tion under the MoC. Since this is a government-to-government (G2G) arrangement, there are fears that Nepal will be too slow to set up a system to send workers. Nepal is the only South Asian nation to be selected as a source coun­try, but there are other countries competing from South East Asia. Tokyo plans to take approximate­ly 70,000 workers a year for the next five years.

In early 2011, Nepal botched a similar opportunity when our bureaucracy sat on a request from Japan that would have created a potential export industry. In the aftermath of the earthquake and tsunami in March 2011, Japan faced severe shortages of food supplies as the twin disaster caused disruptions to its supply chains. To address the issue of food insecurity over the long run, Tokyo approached several countries to produce specific food products for its population. For a developed country, Japan already has a very low food self-sufficien­cy level. Several estimates suggest that less than 40 percent of food consumed by its population is produced domestically.

Tokyo had reportedly sub­mitted a proposal to Nepal to grow food in the Dang Valley for the Japanese population. Because there was no response for several weeks, Japan report­edly took the proposal to anoth­er East Asian country, given the urgency of the matter.

Another opportunity came up in early 2017 when Qatar approached Nepal for vegetable, spices and other supplies in the wake of a blockade imposed by its Gulf neighbors. While there was discussion between the private sector and government officials in Nepal, it did not result in any sig­nificant increase in Nepali exports to the Gulf nation. One reason was the lack of harmonization of food quality standards in Nepal in tune with global practices.

Not a long-term solution

This clearly shows that Nepal’s private sector can benefit from more insight and exposure from countries that are globally com­petitive in terms of production and services. One way to bring this expertise is by bringing in more FDI and the attendant know-how. Another way is to give more of our people opportunity to work abroad in skilled sectors.

Clearly exporting our workforce is not a long-term solution, but in the short to medium term, this approach provides tangible bene­fits to all the parties involved—pro­vided there is no exploitation and the working conditions are right.

As a teacher of sociology I am often quizzed by my curious students about contempo­rary issues they encounter on social media. This week one of them showed me a photo (printed alongside) on the cover page of March 15-21 edition of The Annapurna Express.

The photo is of a young girl stand­ing alone among tall bushes. The caption reads, “Nita of Oligaun, Ach­ham in Far-western province does not want to go to the cattle shed. But if she does not go there for a month or two, her family and the villagers start asking questions: “Why aren’t you menstruating?”, “What has hap­pened?”, “Did you have physical relations with some man?”, “Are you pregnant?” These questions keep her going to the cattle shed.” The conversation with students took me into a long, reflective journey of which this article is a part.

The picture represents stories of many women and girls from mid- and far-western Nepal, where, during menstruation, they have to live in cattle sheds for three days. In many far-western districts, there are sheds especially built to keep women during their periods when they are totally secluded from day-to-day activities.

They are forbidden from enter­ing their homes, touching kitchen appliances, fetching water, visiting holy shrines or performing any reli­gious activity. Only on the fourth day the ‘pollution’ caused by menstrua­tion is believed to go away. This day is marked by purifying baths and resuming normal household and religious activities.

Some women’s rights activists have rightly criticized this tra­dition as being oppressive to women. While such opinions are gaining support from the govern­ment and the international donor community, the practice itself has not seen a significant drop. This is more so in far-western districts where, unlike in many other parts of Nepal, women are not even allowed to stay within the house throughout their periods.

Since this tradition has proven harmful to women, many have asked why it even began

The sheds where they are to stay are built quite far from the house so that there is less chance of acci­dentally polluting the kitchen or places of worship. Living in such sheds however has made women vulnerable in several ways. The cases of women being raped or sex­ually assaulted are not new, nor are the cases where they succumb to snake bites.

Since this tradition has proven harmful to women, many have asked why it even began. Although I am not aware of any studies on its origins in Nepal, studies from else­where in the subcontinent provides various justifications. According to one, this practice among the Madia Gond tribe in eastern Maharashtra and Chhattisgarh of India are based on their belief that a vagina is like a mouth and has teeth. The teeth, they believed, were removed, and the resulting wound makes it occa­sionally bleed.

Rather than going deep into myths about menstruation taboos practiced by various communities, I went to Hindu religious scriptures that are regarded as authoritative texts by large populations in the subcontinent. While going through them, I found contradictory justifi­cations. For example, the Brihada­ranyaka Upanishada argues that the menstrual taboo relieve women of domestic works and provide them free time for rest. During this time it is imperative for her to drink water from a bell metal pot and remain untouched. After spending three nights in seclusion, she should reclaim her purity by taking a bath and wearing new clothes. At the end, she should eat the thresh rice cooked for her by her husband.

This arguments makes it appear like the menstrual taboo could have first evolved to serve the interests of women, as menstruating women are not just exhausted but also prone to bacterial infections. Of course people were not aware of the organ­ism called bacteria then, but their empirical observations must have pointed that certain works or envi­ronment made women more vul­nerable. The taboo freed women of domestic chores and gave them a few days of rest.

On the other hand, Hindu treatise such as Taittiriya Samhita, Taittiriya Brahman, Jaimini Sutras, Parasara Smriti, and Vishnu Dharma Sutra discourage women from eating, rest­ing or keeping themselves clean during the periods. Taittairiya Sam­hita goes on to argue that menstru­ating women should not have inter­course or take a bath during her periods. She is also forbidden from combing her hair and maintaining her nails. Applying oil massage on her body is forbidden too.

The contradictory Hindu texts on this taboo forced me to search for other sources. The one that pro­vided an answer of a sort was the work of Beverly I. Strassmann, an anthropologist. Her ethnographic work on the Dogon tribe of the Afri­can country of Mali concludes that menstrual taboo was institution­alized among the Dogon so that they could monitor the chastity and reproductive status of the women.

According to her, the patriar­chal structure of the society made women do particular things during menstruation which they do not do normally. Visiting menstrual shed or remaining secluded from the socio-cultural life will signal their reproductive status to their husband and family members. This, she con­cludes, helps the male members and patrilineages avoid cuckoldry.

The agony of the girl captured in the photo published in The Annapurna Express hints that the study conducted by Strass­mann among the Dogon could be useful background information for researchers to explore the functions of menstrual taboos in Nepal.