Miscellaneous
Symbolism and federalism
The deaths of SSP Laxman Neupane and 18-month-old Tek Bahadur Saud, along with six other policemen, have sparked cries of outrage and disdain against the violent pursuits of a handful Tharu activists against the delineation of federal states in Tikapur, Kailali. Here in Kathmandu, many have expressed disgust against the “carnage” in Kailali, the bestial response to a topical discussion in the CA—that of the demarcation of federal states in the new six-province federalism model, which has since morphed into a seven-province model.Chiran Raj Pandey
The deaths of SSP Laxman Neupane and 18-month-old Tek Bahadur Saud, along with six other policemen, have sparked cries of outrage and disdain against the violent pursuits of a handful Tharu activists against the delineation of federal states in Tikapur, Kailali. Here in Kathmandu, many have expressed disgust against the “carnage” in Kailali, the bestial response to a topical discussion in the CA—that of the demarcation of federal states in the new six-province federalism model, which has since morphed into a seven-province model. A few picture posts that went viral on social media a few hours after the incident expressed sympathy for the police, comparing the ‘hypocrisy’ of a group of protestors in Tikapur in expecting help from the police during the earthquake, and now killing policemen in whatever rage has been driving them: “Andolan ma esto, apadh pareko ma esto.” “Our country is divided,” some posts read; “We are characterised by unity. We need peace, not ethnic wars,” others read. Facebook and Twitter feeds were flooded with pictures of a bundle of cloth, undoubtedly representing the cadaver of Tek Bahadur Saud, and portrait photographs of SSP Neupane.
Tharu activists in Kailali have lit the road for many other Madhes-based political organisations, minority groups, Janjatis to protest in support of ethnic federalism. Indefinite shutdowns have plagued life in Morang and Parsa. The Army has been deployed in Kailali, Rautahat and Sarlahi districts. In The Kathmandu Post, Akhilesh Upadhyay writes, “Deserted streets, beefed-up security, a fearful population and sinister rumours. A 24-hour curfew for the last five days,” in describing the town of Tikapur.
SSP Neupane and baby Saud have become symbols in Kathmandu. They are the face of the Kathmandu-based movement, the movement that is dismissive of the idea of identity-based federalism, the grievances of the Tharus, Madhesis and Janjatis. The movement that believes the Tharu demands to be trivial obstacles to a new federal Nepal.
Tharus have long been the subject of oppressors. From being sold as bonded labourers, to the unthinkable idea of a Tharu woman having to sleep with her landlord, the fundamentals behind being a Tharu seem to lie in the struggle of having to identify as ‘Tharu’. In 2008, the CPN (Maoist) came to Kathmandu with the apparent burden of having won all six Kailali constituencies. The Maoists were seen to be the face of the Tharu struggle. They were the only political party who would ensure a Tharuhat province in a federal Nepal. Soon, the Maoists—perhaps unable to bear this burden—turned into what political parties such as the Nepali Congress and CPN-UML have been for quite some time—Pahade neta haru. Since then, the Madhesi Janaadhikar Forum-Loktantrik (MJF-L), led by Bijay Kumar Gachhadar, has been the new face of the oppressed Tharus, with the party winning two Kailali constituencies. However, when Gachhadar signed onto the 16-point deal that supported an eight-province model without delineation, the Tharus no longer had a single political organisation to call their own. They were no longer represented by any of the major political parties in Kathmandu. When the six and seven province models with delineation were introduced, the Tharus’ grievances—that of a separate Tharuhat province—were ignored yet again. The frustration that surrounded an already frustrated minority was even greater, and the agitation that has made its way to mainstream media was perhaps inevitable.
There is undoubtedly a difference between unfiltered Tharu rage and the propagation of such sentiments for political agendas. The Tikapur incident has become the sole reason, the turn-to
symbol of Kathmandu’s now open dismissal of the Tharu sentiment. While initially, Tharu sentiments only lacked representation in the state, it now lacks weight even with the masses of Kathmandu. The problem with this, however, is that we have allowed the Tikapur incident to singlehandedly determine the image of an entire ethnic group, their oppressed history, and the development of their sentiments to what it has become today. Tikapur was politically charged, as Home Minister Bamdev Gautam has also been quick to point out. The incident came the day after Tharu activists in Kailali agreed to hold all future protests in peace and harmony. Leaders from major Madhes-based political parties and from the Baidya faction of the Maoists were known to have instigated state-opposing vibes among the Tharus—especially well known is NC leader Amresh Kumar Singh, who allegedly said that “the Bhumiputra should drive the Pahade population out”.
The deaths of the seven policemen and 18-month-old Teku Saud were a disgrace to the idea of democratic protests and they cannot be justified in any way. Violence is violence. And now, if we are to respect the vaguest idea that is left of them in death, they cannot be the symbols that justify Kathmandu’s repeated lack of discourse with the Tharus. The deaths cannot be symbols of the politically charged motivations of a handful of politicians in Kathmandu who feel the need to protect their constituencies, or the opposing handful of politicians who want only to see the CA fail and for another political revolution to make its way mindlessly to Kathmandu.
If the dead are to be respected in death, they should be symbols of the CA’s failed modus operandi when it comes to federalism, in representing minority groups in the state, and allowing politically charged revolutions to define the fate of an oppressed minority. They ought to be symbols against violence, and a reminder that violence will lead to tragedy. They ought to be the basis on which political discourse is held between minority groups and the state.
In denouncing the Tikapur incident and the alleged justification of the violence by ‘progressives’ in Kathmandu, Post Bahadur Basnet writes, “It is like saying that a husband who murdered his wife may have his reason for doing so: ‘he would not have killed her if she had not cheated on him’… And our ‘progressives’ will keep finding excuses, saying it was just the justifiable anger of the oppressed.”
The Pahades of Kathmandu however cannot use the dead to regurgitate such propaganda.