An earthy politician from the rugged hills of Rolpa, Balaram Gharti Magar (1937–2025) held various ministerial portfolios in nearly a dozen cabinets between 1970 and 2000. But his greatest joy came when he was appointed the Minister of State for Defence sometime in the late 1970s. He had gushed to visitors on the lawn of his exposed-brick bungalow outside the Ring Road at Saatdobato: “The royal relatives leading the army will have to salute the son of a Magar!”

Magar knew that his role in the ministry would be limited to securing Cabinet approval for proposals from the Bhadrakali Headquarters. Those were the days when the army’s top brass came almost exclusively from Thakuri and Chhetri clans, many of them with direct or indirect links to the royal family.

Though a favourite of King Birendra, Magar had little authority to initiate reforms or push for systemic changes. The defence minister was content that unlike police guards of fellow cabinet members, he had been given military sentries! In 2006, the king was stripped of the supreme commander-in-chief role.

The Nepali dictionary describes Gharti as a surname of some Chhetris, a few Dolpos, Bhujels of mountain origin or Nepalis of Magarat. An additional meaning listed in the glossary is evocative: Gharti also refers to a group formed of freed slaves. Hailing from the heartland of Magarat, Magar remained a source of pride for all Magars irrespective of their political proclivities.

Though much younger than Magar, Sharat Singh Bhandari has had an even more illustrious political career for nearly half a century. Currently a Cabinet member for the 20th time in the Ministry of Labour, Employment and Social Security, Bhandari has held different portfolios since the 1980s. Confident of his antecedents—a Gorkhali Chhetri with strong links to the permanent establishment of Nepal—he never shies away from airing contrarian views, courting controversies and facing the fallout of his unconventional opinions.

In charge of the health ministry in 2002, Bhandari had drawn flak for his suggestion that red light areas be created through legislation to protect sex workers from exploitation. A defence minister in 2011, he had charged that nothing could prevent the 22 districts of Tarai from seceding if the state continued to be indifferent to their concerns. Soon afterwards, the-then Prime Minister Baburam Bhattarai had relieved him of his post to placate the Nepali Congress and the CPN (UML). He had failed to relent and demanded in 2012 that the Madheshi youths be recruited in the national army.

In functioning democracies, governments draw their legitimacy from service delivery and exist for the betterment of the country. Malfunctioning democracies cobble up a majority and govern over the people through a combination of propaganda and coercion. In dysfunctional democracies, governments exist to rule over the populace by projecting law, order and regime stability as highest political goals. No prizes for guessing in which category the current ethnonational regime in Nepal falls.

Majoritarian regimes employ several strategies to keep critics guessing. Progressive constitutional amendments are promised but never delivered. Provisions for proportional inclusion are alluded to but remain unimplemented. One of the easiest tactics is to reshuffle the cabinet at frequent intervals so that supportive critics can be placated with minor ministries. It also sends a signal that the stagnancy in governance is about to be broken.

Rumour is rife that Prime Minister Khadga Prasad Sharma Oli wants to strengthen his position by inducting more loyal faces in the Cabinet sometime soon. Bhandari will probably be retained to keep the bridge between the permanent establishment and the permanent minority—the Madheshis—of the country open. The buzz in political circles is that Upendra Yadav too is tempted to jump on the gravy train. However, a Madheshi as an additional deputy prime minister is unlikely to lessen the moan that the permanent minority always gets a short shift in the government structure.

Futile quest

Every country with overwhelming monoethnic hegemony has had to go through homogenisation by force at a certain stage of its history. Japan went through long civil wars to emerge as an imperial power. From the wars of the Qin dynasty through the campaigns of Hans to Mao’s cultural revolution, the Chinese have maintained a consistent pace of manufacturing uniformity.

Cultural unity based upon linguistic uniformity was the underlying premise of the French citizenry with liberty, equality and fraternity as its ideals. In far-flung colonies, European powers devised strident assimilation policies. Wherever states have been created through compacts between colonial powers, settlements with ruling chieftains or through independence movements of the mimic men—sameness of different people patterned after the colonialists rather than affinity with each other—diversity is the stark reality.

The dominant group get a head start in countries with heterogeneous societies. Colonialists often exercised control through local warlords. Empires needed soldiers and clerks. Communities that compromised with colonialists got better access to opportunities for a share in the spoils. Minority came to carry the connotation of exclusion rather than mere numerical strength under all exploitative regimes. Ethnonational majoritarianism is a democratic form of legitimising the hegemony of the dominant majority that invariably produces a permanent minority.

Every time some top appointments are made, or state nominations are announced, at least a few Madheshis from the aspiring class call up a friend in Kathmandu to ask why so few from the community have been able to make to the select list. Odd as it may seem, the tyranny of the majority is inherent to majoritarian democracies where the permanent minority must accept a secondary role at most. Beneficiaries of tokenism must practice conformism to survive and thrive.

Grasping gaze

Somehow, the Janjati and Dalit biggies find it easier to accept the doles of supportive roles. The frustrations of the emergent Madheshi elite are higher because they are no longer satisfied with protection, welfare and the politics of tokenism. They have begun to ask for adequate representation, equal opportunity and a seat at the high table of premier institutions of the state, market and society.

Unable to accept the difference between promise (equality of opportunity and equity in outcome) and practice (majoritarianism disproportionately benefits the dominant group) of democracy, aspirant Madheshis fume in private but maintain a sullen silence in public. Perhaps that partly explains the bewilderment of a non-resident scholar that the presence of Madheshi voices in mainstream or even the ‘mal-stream media’ is marginal.

Among the three options of coping with social dissatisfaction—“exit, voice and loyalty” in the famous formulation of social scientist Albert O Hirschman—the rewards of submission are too low to attract ambitious and competent individuals. Raising one’s voice is fraught with majoritarian backlash and risks of reprisal with no guarantee of redressal. In the absence of geopolitical interventions, permanent minorities seldom make successful revolutions. That leaves exit as the most practical option. Silence in the public sphere too is a form of exit from the hegemonic order where equality appears to be an impossibility.

Ethnic mobilisation checks democratic backsliding. Recognition of ethnic dignity through federalism and devolution can reduce the risks of separatism. But the disconcerting reality is that continuous struggle is the permanent lot of all permanent minorities everywhere.